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WEARING OF THE GRAY; 



PERSONAL PORTPiAITS, SCENES AND ADVENTURES 



A\^A^R. 



By JOHN ESTEN COOKE, 

FORMERLY OF GENERAL STUARt's STAFF, AND AUTHOR OF " SURKY OF EAGLe's 
NEST," ''stonewall JACKSON," ETC. 



'•The blessed and over-glorious dead are not here to defend their menmries from the taint 
of the reproacli of rebellion and treason. Alas 1 I am alive and here, and am bound at every 
hazard to declare that these men were no rebels and no traitors . . , that they were pure 
patriots, loyal citizens, well tried and true soldiers, brave, honest, devoted men, who proved 
their faith in their principles by the deaths which canonized them immortal heroes and 
martyrs." 

Hf.kry a. Wise. 



NEW YOEK: 
E. B. TREAT k CO., 654 BROADwil^ 

BALTLMORE. ilD. : J. S. MORROW. NEW ORLEANS, LA. : J. H. HU^LilEL. 
NASHVILLE, TENS.: A. S. KIMZEY. 
1867. 



Entered aocording to Act of Congress, iu the year 1867, by 

E. B. TREAT & CO., 

In the Clerk's Oflice of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District ot 

New York. 



JCL. U D.t. 



The New York Printing Comp.^ny, 

8i, 83, and 85 CcnU-e Street, 

New York 



THE ILLUSTRIOUS MEMORY OF 

Major-General J. E. B. STUART, 

" Flmrer of Cavalier's,'''' 

Qttis 23ook is ffltbicattlr 

BY AN OI.P MEMBER OF HIS STAFF, 

Who loved him living, 
And mourns him . dead. 

JOHN ESTEN COOKE. 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



PORTRAITS ENGRAVED ON STEEL FROM PHOTOGRAPHS TAKEN 

FROM LIFE. 



1. Major-General J. E. B. Stuart. Frontispiece. 

2. General Robert E. Lee 17 

o. General G. T. Beauregard 

4. Major-General J. A. Early 

5. Major-General Wade Hampton 

G. Major-General Turner Ashby 

7. Major John Pelhain 

8. Colonel John S. Mosbj 



BATTLE SCENES FROM ORIGINAL DESIGNS. 

9. Wade Hampton's Cavalry Fight at Gettysburg 57 

] 0. Ashby's Adventure at Winchester 74 

1 1. Death of Major Pelham— " The Gallant " 127 

i 2. Stuart's Ride around McClellan 177 

13. Stuart's Escape from the Federal Cavalry 209 

14. Death Wound of " Stonewall Jackson " SOI 

1 5. How Darrell was captured .123 

16. General Lee's Retreat from Petersburg 579 



CONTENTS. 



Part I 

PERSONAL PORTRAITS. 

Introduction xiii 

I. Stuart IT 

II. Jackson 44 

III. Hampton , 57 

TV. Ashby ! .... 70 

V. Beauregard 83 

VI. Early 96 

VII. Mosby 113 

VIII. Pelhara •' the GaUant " 127 

IX. Farley " the Scout " 141 

X. Hardeman Stuart, the Young Captain of the Signal Corps 152 

XI. Jennings Wise. Captain of " The Blues " 158 



Part 2, 

IN THE CAVALRY. 

Introduction 169 

I. Stuart's " Ride around McCleUan," in June, 1862 174 

II. Stuart on the Outpost ; a Scene at " Camp Qui Vive " 192 

III. One of Stuart's Escapes 204 

rV. A Glimpse of Colonel " Jeb Stuart " 212 

V. A Deserter 220 

VI. A Young Virginian and his Spurs 228 

VII. To Gettysburg and Back Again 236 

Vril. From the Rapidan to Frying- Pan ; in October, 1863 263 

IX. Major R 's Little Private Scout 279 

X. A Dash at Aldie 284 

XI. Jackson's Death- Wound 297 

XII. Facetiffi of the Camp — Souvenirs of a C. S. Officer 310 



CONTENTS. 



|)art 3. 

OUTLINES FROM THE OUTPOST. 

I. A Scout across the Rappahannock 323 

II. How I was Arrested 333 

III. Mosby's Raid into Fairfax S46 

IV. My Friend Lieutenant Bumpo , 354. 

V. Corporal Shabrach : 

I. His Opinion of General Lee 365 

II. His Description of the Passport Office 372 

VI. The Band of the " First Virginia " 377 

VIL The "Old Stonewall Brigade" 382 

Vin. Annals of " The Third " 389 

IX. Blunderbus on Picket 402 

X. Adventures of Darrell : 

L How he took Upton's Hill 410 

II. His Recollections of Manassas and the "G-amest Yankee". . .416 

III. How he was Captured 423 

IV. Incidents of the Peninsula 434 

XI. Longbow's Horse 445 

XII. Roslyn and the White House : Before and After 462 

Xin. On the Wing 474 



Ipart 5. 

SCOUT LIFE. 

I. The Scouts 483 

II. Hunted Down 487 

III. How S Overheard his Death- Warrant 500 

IV. How S Captured a Federal Colonel's Hat 509 

V. How S Carried off a Federal Field-OfBcer 514' 

VI. An Adventure with the '' Bluebirds " 520 



part 5. 



LATTER DAYS. 

I. On the Road to Petersburg : Notes of an Officer of the C. S. A 527 

II. A Family Rifle-Pit : an Incident of Wilson's Raid 536 

IIL A Fight, a Dead Man, and a Coffin 542 

IV. General Pegrara on tlie Night before his Death 553 

V. Lee's Last Battles 556 



PART I. 

PERSONAL PORTRAITS. 



These " Personal Portraits " were undertaken with the design 
of making better known and understood the great actors in the 
recent struggle who are the subjects of them. 

It is a matter of grave importance that the illustrious figures 
of the war should not be obscured bj the mists of ignorance or 
falsehood. Nor can they be. Dulness and slander do not long- 
blind the eyes of men ; and sooner or later the light, of truth 
makes all things visible in their natural colours and proportions. 
To the good work of placing upon record the actual truth in 
relation to the lives and characters of Stuart and some other 
noble soldiers of the Southern army, the writer of this page has 
here brought a few of his recollections — aiming to draw these 
"worthies" rather as they lived and moved, following their 
various idiosyncrasies, than as they performed their "official" 
duties on the public stage. This seemed best calculated to dis- 
play their real individuality — the embodiment of their personal 
characteristics in a portrait with the pen, as a painter draws the 
form and features of his sitter with the brush. 

Such personal details of the characters of these eminent men 
will not be uninteresting to the lovers of noble natures of what- 
ever "faction;" nor is the fondness for such particulars either 
trivial or ignoble. They elucidate biography and history — which 
are the same — for they present the likeness of the actor in the 
drama, his character and endowments ; and to know what great 
men a?*e, is better than to know what they perform. What Lee, 
Jackson, Johnston, Stuart, and their associates accomplished, 
history will record ; how they looked, and moved, and spoke, 



XIV INTRODUCTION. 

will attract much less attention from the " historian of the 
future." The august muse of history will make her partial and 
passionate, or fair and dignified, summary of the events of the 
late war ; will discuss the causas resum with learned philosophy ; 
and mete out in rounded periods what she thinks the due 
amount of glory or shame to the actors, in gray or in blue. But 
meanwhile the real personages disappear, and the colours fade ; 
figures become historical personages, not men. And events, too, 
"suffer change." They are fused in the mass; generalization 
replaces the particular incident as it does the impressive trait ; 
— the terrible dust of " official documents" obscures personages, 
characters, and events. 

This is trite, but it is true ; and the fact thus lamely stated is 
one of the " chiefest spites of fate." For what is the picture 
worth unless drawn in its actual colours ? — what the value of the 
figures unless they are likenesses? The war just ended was not 
an " official transaction," onlj'- to be calmly narrated with digni- 
fied generalization, philosophic reasoning, and commonplace 
comment upon peace conferences, grand tactics, and the political 
bearing of the result. It was a mighty drama, all life, passion, 
movement, incident, and romance — a singular melange, wherein 
tears, laughter, sighs and smiles, rapidly followed each other, 
communicating to the bitter and determined struggle all the pro- 
found interest of a tragedy whose scenes sweep on before the 
spectator to the catastrophe. Nor were the actors in the tragedy 
blocks of wood, or merely '• official personages" playing coldlj'" 
their stage parts. They were men of flesh and blood, full of 
high resolve, vehement passion ; subject to hope, fear, rejoicing, 
depression ; but faithful through all to the great principles which 
drove them on — principles in which they believed, and for 
which they were ready to die. They were noble types of the 
great Norman race of which the Southern people come — brave, 
honourable, courteous, social ; quick in resentment, proud, but 
placable ; and these conspicuous traits were everywhere seen in 
their actions and daily lives. 

The portraits here presented of a few of these men may be 
, rude and incomplete, but they are likenesses. No personage is 



l^'TliODUCTION. XV 

spoken of with wliom the writer was not more or less acquaint- 
ed; and every trait and incident set down was either observed 
bv himself or obtained from good authority. Invention has 
absolutely nothing to do with the sketches ; the writer has re- 
corded his recollections, and not his fancies. The " picturesque '' 
is a poor style of art, when truth is sacrificed to it. To repre- 
sent General Lee decked out in a splendid uniform bedizzened 
with gold lace, on a " prancing steed," and followed by a nume- 
rous and glittering staff, might " tickle the ears of the ground- 
lings;" but the picture would be apt to " make the judicious 
grieve." The latter class would much prefer the actual man, in 
his old gray cape and plain brown coat, riding, unattended, on 
his sober iron-gray along the lines ; would rather hear him say 
amid the storm of Gettysburg, in his calm brave voice, " Kever 
mind; it is not your fault, General; I am to blame," than read 
the most eloquent sentences which the imagination could invent 
for him. And in regard to others, the truth would possess an 
equal superiority over fiction. Jackson was a noble human 
soul; pure, generous, fearless, of imperial genius for making 
war ; but why claim for him personal graces, and the charm of 
social humour? Stuart ranked justly with the two or three 
greatest cavalry commanders of the woi'ld, and in his character 
combined gaiety, courage, resolution, winning manners, and the 
purest traits of the gentleman and Christian ; but why draw the 
gallant cavalier as utterly fliultless, never moved by anger, ever 
serious and devout as was Jackson ? By sucli a process the 
actual characters disappear; the real men, with faults and vir- 
tues, grand traits and foibles, become mere lay-figures to hang- 
uniforms upon. The pictures should either be made likenesses, 
or not be painted ; events should be represented in their real 
colours, or not at all. 

These few words will explain the character of the sketches 
here presented, and the theory upon which the writer has pro- 
ceeded in drawing them. They are conscientious "studies," and 
the result of an honest desire to elucidate the characters of their 
subjects, who are here described in rapid outline as they lived 
and moved before all eyes upon the stage of the war. Eulogy \ 



XVI INTRODUCTION. 

has not magnified them, as partisan rancour has not blackened 
their adversaries. Thej appeared as they are here drawn to the 
eyes of the writer; if the portraits are unfaithful, it is not be- 
cause he lacked the fairness, but wanted the ability, to " denote 
them truly." 




W H*.**^' 



-^iiOTld eipresdT fur'Tftam* o£** ' 



¥EAEING OF THE GRAY. 



I. 

STUART. 



Stuart, chief of the Confederate cavalry in Virginia, was one 
of the Dii Majores of the recent conflict — his career rather a 
page from romance than a chapter of history. Everything 
stirring, brilliant, and picturesque, seemed to centre in him. 
There was about the man a flavour of chivalry and adventure 
which made him more like a knight of the middle age than a 
soldier of the prosaic nineteenth century, and it was less the 
science than the poetry of war which he summed up and illus- 
trated in his character and career. 

With the majority of those who took part in it, the late revo- 
lution was a hard and bitter struggle, which they entered upon 
resolutely, but with unconcealed distaste. To this soldier, how- 
ever, it seemed to be a splendid and exciting game, in which his 
blood coursed joyously, and his immensely strong physical or- 
ganization found an arena for the display of all its faculties. 
The affluent life of the man craved those perils and hardships 
which flush the pulses and make the heart beat fast. A single 
look at him was enough to convince anybody that Stuart loved 
danger and adventure, and that the clear blue eyes of the sol- 
dier, "with a frolic welcome took the thunder and the sunshine." 
He swung himself into the saddle, at the sound of the bugle, as 

2 



18 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

the hunter springs on horseback; and at such moments his 
cheeks glowed, and his huge moustache curled with enjoyment. 
The romance and poetry of the hard trade of arms seemed first 
to be inaugurated when this joyous cavalier, with his floating 
plume and splendid laughter, appeared upon the great arena of 
the war in Virginia. 

This gay bearing of the man was plainly unaffected, and few 
persons could resist its influence. There was about Stuart an 
inspiration of joy and youth. The war was evidently like play 
to him — and he accepted its most perilous scenes and cruellest 
hardships with the careless abandon of a young knight-errant 
seeking adventures. Nothing seemed strong enough to break 
down his powerfid organization of mind and body ; and danger 
only aroused and brought his fall faculties into play. He greeted 
it with ardour and defied it with his joyous laughter — leading his 
column in desperate charges with a smile upon the lips. Others 
might despond, but Stuart kept his good spiHts; and while the 
air around him was full of hissing balls and bursting shell, he 
would hum his gay songs. In Culpeper the infantry were elec- 
trified by the laughter and singing of Stuart as he led them in 
the charge; and at Chancellors ville, where he commanded Jack- 
son's corps after that great man's fall, the infantry veterans as 
they swept on, carrying line after line of breastworks at the point 
of the bayonet, saw his plume floating in front — "like Henry of 
Navarre's," one of them said — and heard his sonorous voice 
singing, " Old Joe Hooker, will you come out of the Wilder- 
ness! " 

This curious spirit of boyish gaiety did not characterize him on 
certain occasions only, but went with him always, surrounding 
every movement of the man with a certain atmosphere of frolic 
and abandon. Immense animal health and strength danced in 
his eyes, gave elasticity to the motions of his person, and rang 
in his contagious laughter. It was hard to realize that anything 
could hurt this powerful machine, or that death could ever come 
to him ; and the perilous positions from which he had so often 
escaped unharmed, appeared to justify the idea of his invul- 
nerability. Although he exposed his person recklessly in more 



STUART. 19 

than a hundred hot engagements, he was never wounded in any. 
The rosebud in his button-hole, which some child or girl had 
given him, or rather say his mother's Bible, which he always 
carried, seemed to protect him. Death appeared to shrink be- 
fore him and avoid him ; and he laughed in the grim face, and 
dared it for three years of reckless fighting, in which he seemed 
every day to be trying to get himself killed. 

His personal appearance coincided with his character. Ever}''- 
thing about the man was youthful, picturesque, and brilliant. 
*Lee, Jackson, and other eminent soldiers of the South, seemed 
desirous of avoiding, in their dress and accoutrements every 
species of display, and to aim at making themselves resemble 
as closely as possible their brave soldiers, whose uniforms were 
sadly deficient in military gewgaws. Stuart's taste was exactly 
the opposite. He was as fond of colours as a boy or a girl. His 
fighting jacket shone with dazzling buttons and was covered 
with gold braid ; his hat was looped up with a golden star, and 
decorated with a black ostrich plume ; his fine buff gauntlets 
reached to the elbow ; around his waist was tied a splendid yel- 
low silk sash, and his spurs were of pure gold. The stern Iron- 
sides of Cromwell would have sneered at this " frivolous boy" 
as they sneered at Prince Eupert, with his scarlet cloak, his wav- 
ing plume, his white dog, and his twenty-three years— all the 
more as Stuart had a white dog for a pet, wore a cape lined with 
scarlet, had a plume in his hat, and — to complete the compari- 
son — is said to have belonged to that royal family of Stuarts 
from which Eupert sprang.* Many excellent people did not 
hesitate to take the Ironside view. They regarded and spoke 
of Stuart as a trifling military fop — a man who had in some 
manner obtained a great xommand for which he was wholly 
unfit. They sneered at his splendid costume, his careless laugh- 
ter, his "love of ladies;" at his banjo-player, his flower-wreathed 
horses, and his gay verses. The enemy were wiser. Buford, 
Baj^ard, Pleasanton, Stoneman, and their associates, did not com- 
mit that blunder. They had felt the heavy arm too often; and 
knew too well the weight of that flower-encircled weapon. 

* Princo Rupert was the nephew of Charles I., and the son of Elizabeth Stuart. 



20 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

There were three other men who could never be persuaded 
"that Stuart was no cavalry officer, and who persisted in regard- 
ing this boyish cavalier as their right-hand man — the " eye and 
ear" of their armies. These men were Lee, Johnston, and Jack- 
son. 

II. 

Stuart's great career can be alluded to but briefly here. 
Years crammed with incident and adventure cannot be summed 
up on a page. 

He was twenty-seven when he resigned his first-lieutenancy 
in the United States cavalry, and came to offer his sword to Vir- 
ginia. Pie was sprung from an old and honourable family there, 
and his love of his native soil was strong. Upon his arrival he 
was made lieutenant-colonel, and placed in command of the 
cavalry on the Upper Potomac, where he pi^oved himself so vigi- 
lant a soldier that Johnston called him " the indefatigable Stu- 
art," and compared him to "a yellow jacket," which was "no 
sooner brushed off than it lit back." He had command of the 
whole front until Johnston left the valley, when he moved with 
the column to Manassas, and charged and broke the New York 
Zouaves ; afterwards held the front toward Alexandria, under 
Beauregard ; then came the hard falling back, the struggle upon 
the Peninsula, the battle of Cold Harbour, and the- advancewhich 
followed into Marjdand. Stuart was now a general, and laid 
the foundation of his fame by the "ride around McClellan" 
on the Chickahominy. Thenceforth he was the right hand of 
Lee until his death. 

The incidents of his career from 'the spring of 1862 to May, 
1864, would fill whole volumes. The ride around McClellan ; 
the fights on the Eapidan ; the night march to Catlett's, where 
he captured Greneral Pope's coat and official papers ; the advance 
to Manassas ; the attack on Flint Hill ; the hard rear-guard work 
at South Mountain ; holding the left at Sharpsburg ; the circuit 
of McClellan again in Maryland ; the bitter conflicts near Up- 
perville as Lee fell back ; the fighting all along the slopes of the 



STUART. 21 

Blue Ridge ; the "crowding 'em with artillery" on the night at 
Fredericksburg; the winter march upon Dumfries; the battle 
of Chancellorsville, where he commanded Jackson's corps ; the 
advance thereafter, and the stubborn conflict at Fleetwood Hill 
on the 9th of June ; the hard, obstinate fighting once more to 
guard the flanks of Lee on his way to Gettysburg ; the march 
across the Potomac; the advance to within sight of Washington, 
and the invasion of Pennsj'lvania, with the determined fights 
at Hanovertown, Carlisle, and Gettysburg, where he met and 
drove before him the crack cavalry of the Federal army; the 
retreat thereafter before an enraged enemy ; the continuous com- 
bats of the mountain passes, and in the vicinity of Boonsboro' ; 
the obstinate stand he made once more on the old ground around 
Upperville as Lee again fell back ; the heavy petites guerres of 
Culpeper ; the repulse of Custer when he attacked Charlottes- 
ville ; the expedition to the rear of General IMeade when he 
came^overto MineEun; the bitter struggle in the Wilderness 
when General Grant advanced ; the fighting all along the Po in 
Spotsylvania ; the headlong gallop past the South Anna, and 
the bloody struggle near the Yellow Tavern, where the cavalier, 
who had passed through a hundred battles untouched, came to 
his end at last — these are a few of the pictures which rise up 
before the mjnd's eye at those words, " the career of Stuart." In 
the brief space of a sketch like this, it is impossible to attempt 
any delineation of these crowding scenes and events. They 
belong to history, and will sooner or later be placed upon record 
— for a thousand octavos cannot bury them as long as one fore- 
finger and thumb remains to write of them. All that is here 
designed is a rough cartoon of the actual man — not a fancy 
figure, the work of a eulogist, but a truthful likeness, however 
poorly executed. 

in. 

I have supposed that the reader would be more interested in 
Stuart the man than in Stuart the Major-General command- 
ing. History will paint the latter — my page deals with the 



22 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

former chiefly. It is in dress, habits, the tone of the voice, 
the demeanour in private, that men's characters are read ; and 
I have never seen a man who looked his character more perfect- 
ly than Stuart. 

He was the cavalier jpar excellence; and everything which 
he did, or said, was " in character." "We know a clergyman 
sometimes by his moderation, mild address, black coat, and 
white cravat ; a merchant by his quick movements and " busi- 
ness-like" manner; a senator by his gravity; and a poet by 
his dreamy eye. You saw in the same manner, at a single 
glance, that Stuart was a cavalry-man — in his dress, voice, walk, 
manner, everything. All about him was military; and, fine 
as his costume undoubted!}^ was, it " looked like work." There 
was no little fondness, as I have said, for bright colours and 
holiday display in his appearance ; and he loved the parade, 
the floating banner, the ring of the bugle, " ladies' eyes " — 
all the glory, splendour, and brilliant colouring of life ; but 
the soldier of hard fibre and hard work was under the gallant. 
Some day a generation will come who will like to know all 
about the famous " Jeb Stuart" — let me therefore limn him 
as he appeared in the years 1862 and 1868. 

His frame was low and athletic — close knit and of very great 
strength and endurance, as you could see at a glance. His 
countenance was striking and attracted attention — the forehead 
broad, lofty, and indicating imagination ; the nose prominent, 
and inclining to "Eoman," with large and mobile nostrils; 
the lips covered with a heavy brown moustache, curled upward 
at the ends ; the chin by a huge beard of the same colour, 
which descended upon the wearer's breast. Such was the rather 
brigandish appearance of Stuart — but I have omitted to notice 
the eyes. They were clear, penetrating, and of a brilliant blue. 
They could be soft or fiery — would fill with laughter or dart 
flame. Anything more menacing than that flame, when Stuart 
was hard pressed, it would be difficult to conceive; but the 
prevailing expression was gay and laughing. He wore a brown 
felt hat looped up with a star, and ornamented with an ebon 
feather; a double-breasted jacket always open and buttoned 



STUART. 23 

back ; gray waistcoat and pantaloons ; and boots to the knee, 
decorated with small spurs, which he wore even in dancing. To 
proceed with my catalogue of the soldier's accoutrements : on 
marches he threw over his shoulders his gray cavalry cape, and 
on the pommel of his saddle was strapped an oil-cloth overall, 
used as a protection in rain, which, instead of annoying him, 
seemed to raise his spirits. In the midst of rain-storms, when 
everybody was riding along grum and cowering beneath the 
flood pouring down, he would trot on, head up, and singing 
gaily. His arms were, a light French sabre, balanced by a pistol 
in a black holster ; his covering at night, a red blanket, strapped 
in an oil-cloth behind the saddles. Such was the "outer man" 
of Stuart in camp and field. His fondness for bright colours, 
however, sometimes made him don additional decorations. 
Among these was a beautiful yellow sash, whose folds he would 
carefully wrap around his waist, skilfully tying the ends on the 
left side so that the tassels fell full in view. Over this he would' 
buckle his belt ; his heavy boots would be changed for a pair 
equally high, but of bright patent leather, decorated with gold 
thread ; and then the gallant Jeb Stuart was ready to visit some- 
body. This love of gay colours was shown in other ways. He 
never moved on the field without his splendid red battle-flag ; and 
more than once this prominent object, flaunting in the wind, 
drew the fire of the enemy's artillery on himself and staff. 
Among flowers, he preferred the large dazzling " Giant of Bat- 
tles," with its blood-red disk. But he loved all blooms for their 
brilliance. Lent was not his favourite season. Life in his eyes 
was best when it was all flowers, bright colours, and carnival. 

He was a bold and expert rider, and stopped at nothing. 
Frequently the headlong speed with which he rode saved him 
from death or capture — as at Sharpsburg, where he darted close 
along the front of a Federal regimient which rose and fired on 
him. The speed of his horse was so great that not a ball struck 
him. At Hanovertown, in 18G3, and on a hundred occasions, 
he was chased, when almost unattended, by Federal cavalry ; but, 
clearing fence and ravine, escaped. He was a "horse-man" in 
his knowledge of horses, but had no "passion" for them ; pre- 



24 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

ferred animals of medium size, which wheeled, leaped, and 
moved rapidly ; and, mounted upon his " Skylark," " Star of the 
East,'' "Lady Margaret," or "Lily of the Valley," he was the 
picture of a bold cavalier, prepared to go into a charge, or to 
take a gallop by moonlight — ready for a fight or a frolic. 

It was out of the saddle, however, that Stuart was most attrac- 
tive. There he was busy ; in his tent, when his work was once 
over, he was as insouciant as a boy. Never Was there a human 
being of readier laughter. He dearly loved a joke, and would 
have one upon everybody. They were not mild either. He 
loved a horse-joke, and a horse-laugh. But the edge of his 
satire, although keen, was never envenomed. The uproarious 
humour of the man took away anything like sarcasm from his 
Avit, and he liked you to " strike back." What are called " great 
people " sometimes break their jests upon lesser personages, with 
a tacit understanding that the great personage shall not be jested 
at in return. Such deference to his rank was abhorrent to Stu- 
art. He jested roughly, but you were welcome to handle him 
as roughly in return. If you could turn the laugh upon him, 
you were perfectly welcome so to do, and he never liked you 
the less for it. In winter-quarters his tent was a large affair, 
with a good chimney and fireplace; in the summer, on active 
service, a mere breadth of canvas stretched over rails against a 
tree, and open at both ends. Or he had no tent, and slept under 
a tree. The canvas "fly" only came into requisition when he 
rested for a few days from the march. Under this slight shelter, 
Stuart was like a king of rangers. On one side was his chair 
and desk ; on the other, his blankets spread on the ground : 
at his feet his two setters, "Nip" and "Tuck," whom he had 
brought out of Culpeper, on the saddle, as he fell back before 
the enemy. When tired of writing, he would throw himself 
upon his blankets, play with his pets, laugh at the least provo- 
cation, and burst into some gay song. 

He had a strong love for music, and sang, himself, in a clear, 
sonorous, and correct voice. His favourites were : " The bugle 
sang truce, for the night cloud had lowered;" "The dew is on 
the blossom;" "Sweet Evelina," and "Evelyn," among pathetic 



STUART. 25 

songs ; but comic ones were equal or greater favourites with liim : 
" If you get there before I do ;"' " The old gray horse ;" " Come 
out of the wilderness," and " If you want to have a good time, 
join the cavalry," came from his lips in grand uproarious mer- 
riment, the very woods ringing with the strains. This habit 
of singing had always characterized him, li'rom the days in the 
valley when he harassed Paterson so, with his omnipresent cav- 
alry, he had fought and. sung alternately. Riding at the head 
of his long column, bent upon some raid, or advancing to attack 
the enemy, he would make the forest resound with his sonorous 
songs ; and a gentleman who met him one day, thus singing in 
front of his men, said that the young cavalier was his perfect 
ideal of a knight of romance. It might almost, indeed, be said 
that music was his passion, as Vive la joie! might have been 
regarded as his motto. His banjo-player, Sweeny, was the con- 
stant inmate of his tent, rode behind him on the march, and 
went with him to social gatherings. Stuart wrote his most im- 
portant dispatches and correspondence with the rattle of the gay 
instrument stunning everybody, and would turn round from his 
work, burst into a laugh, and join uproariously in Sweeny's 
chorus. On the march, the banjo was frequently put in requisi- 
tion ; and those "grave people" who are shocked by "frivolity" 
must have had their breath almost taken away by this extraor- 
dinary spectacle of the famous General Stuart, commanding all 
the cavalry of General Lee's army, moving at the head of his 
hard-fighting corps with a banjo-plaj^er rattling behind him. 
But Stuart cared little for the " grave people." He fought 
harder than they did, and chose to amuse himself in his own 
way. Lee, Johnston, and Jackson, had listened to that banjo 
without regarding it as frivolous ; and more than once it had 
proved a relaxation after the exhausting cares of command. So 
it rattled on still, and Stuart continued to laugh, without caring 
much about *Hhe serious family", class. He had on his side 
Lee, Jackson, and the young ladies who danced away gaily 
to Sweeny's music — what mattered it whether Aminadab Sleek, 
Esq., approved or disapproved ! 

The " young lady " element was an important one with Stuart. 



26 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

Never have I seen a purer, more knightly, or more charming 
gallantry than his. He was here, as in all his life, the Christian 
gentleman, the loyal and consistent professor of religion ; but 
with this delicacy of the chevalier was mingled the gaiety of 
the boy. lie was charmed, and charmed in return. Ladies 
were his warmest admirers — for they saw that under his laugh- 
ing exterior was an earnest nature and a warm heart. Every- 
thinsf drew them towards him. The romance of his hard career, 
the adventurous character of the man, his mirth, wit, gallantry, 
enthusiasm, and the unconcealed pleasure which he showed in 
their society, made him their prime favourite. They flocked 
around him, gave him flowers, and declared that if they could 
they would follow his feather and fight with him. With all 
this, Stuart was delighted. He gave them positions on his staff, 
placed the flowers in his button-hole, kissed the fair hands that 
presented them, and if the cheek was near the hand, he would 
laugh and kiss that too. The Sleek family cried out at this, 
and rolled their eyes in horror — but it is hard to please the 
Sleek family. Stuart was married, a great public character, had 
fought in defence of these young ladies upon a hundred battle- 
fields, and was going to die for them. It does'not seem so huge 
an enormity as the Sleeks everywhere called it — that while the 
blue eyes flashed, the eyes of women should give back their 
splendour ; while the lips were warm, they should not shrink 
from them. Soon the eyes were to grow dim, and the lips 
cold. 

Stuart was best loved by those who knew him best ; and it 
may here be recorded that his devotion towards his young wife 
and children attracted the attention of every one. His happiest 
hours were spent in their society, and he never seemed so well 
satisfied as when they were in his tent. To lie upon his camp- 
couch and play with one of his children, appeared to be the 
summit of felicity with him ; and when, during the hard falling 
back near Upperville, in the fall of 1862, the news came of the 
death of his little daughter Flora, he seemed almost overcome. 
Many months afterwards, when speaking of her, the tears 
gushed to his eyes, and he murmured in a broken voice : " I will 



STUART. 27 

never get over it — never ! " He seemed rough and hard to those 
■who only saw him now and then ; but the persons who lived 
with him knew his great kindness of heart. Under that care- 
less, jesting, and often cart demeanour, was a good, true heart. 
The fibre of the man was tough under all strain, and his whole 
organization was masculine ; but he exhibited, sometimes, a soft- 
ness of feeling which might almost be called tenderness, A 
marked trait of his character was this : that if he had offended 
anj'body, or wounded their feelings, be could never rest until he 
had in some way made amends. His temper was^ irascible at 
times, and he would utter harsh words ; but the flaming eyes 
soon softened, the arrogant manner disappeared. In ten minutes 
his arm would probably be upon the shoulder or around the 
neck of the injured individual, and his voice would become 
caressanie. This was almost amusing, and showed his good 
heart. Like a child, he must " make up " with people he had 
unintentionally offended ; and he never rested until he suc- 
ceeded. Let it not be understood, however, that this placability 
of temperament came into ^plaj in " official " affairs. There 
Stuart was as hard as adamant, and nothing moved him. He 
never forgave opposition to his will, or disobedience of his 
orders; and though never bearing malice, was a thoroughly 
good hater. His prejudices were strong ; and when once he had 
made up his mind deliberately, nothing would change him. He 
was immovable f^nd implacable ; and against these offenders he 
threw the whole weight of his powerful will and his high posi- 
tion, determined to crush them. That, however, was in public 
and official matters. In all the details of his daily life he was 
thoroughly lovable, as many persons still living can testify. 
He was the most approachable of major-generals, and jested 
with the private soldiers of his command as jovially as though 
he had been one of themselves. The men were perfectly uncon- 
strained in his presence, and treated him more like the chief 
huntsman of a hunting party than as a major-general. His 
staff were greatly attached to him, for he sympathized in all their 
affairs as warmly as a brother, and was constantly doing them 
some " good turn," When with them off duty, he dropped 



28 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

every indication of rank, and was as much a boy as the youngest 
of them — playing marbles, quoits, or snowball, with perfect 
abandon and enjoyment. Most charming of all in the eyes of 
those gentlemen was the fact that he would not hesitate to 
decline invitations to entertainments, on the plainly stated 
ground that " his staff" were not included" — after which I need 
give myself no further trouble to explain why he was the most 
beloved of generals ! 

I have spoken of his reckless exposure of his person in bat- 
tle. It would convey a better idea of his demeanour under fire 
to say that he seemed unaware of the presence of danger. This 
air of indifference was unmistakable. When brave men were 
moving restlessly, or unconsciously "ducking" to avoid the bul- 
lets showering around them, Stuart sat his horse, full front to 
the fire, with head up, form unmoved — a statue of unconscious- 
ness. It would be difficult to conceive of a greater coolness and 
indifference than he exhibited. The hiss of balls, striking down 
men around him, or cutting off" locks of his hair and piercing 
his clothes, as at Fredericksburg, did not seem to attract his at- 
tention. With shell bursting right in his face and maddening 
his horse, he appeared to be thinking of something else. In 
other men what is called "gallantry" is generally seen to be the 
effect of a strong will ; in Stuart it seemed the result of indiffer- 
ence. A stouter-hearted cavalier could not be imagined ; and if 
his indifference gave way, it was generally succeeded by gaiety. 
Sometimes, however, all the tiger was aroused in him. His face 
flushed ; his eyes darted flame ; his voice grew hoarse and stri- 
dent. This occurred in the hot fight of Fleetwood Hill, in June, 
1863, when he was almost surrounded by the heavy masses of 
the enemy's cavalry, and very nearly cut off; and again near 
Upperville, later in the same year, when he was driven back, 
foot by foot, to the Blue Ridge. Stuart's face was stormy at 
such moments, and his eyes like " a devouring fire." His voice 
was curt, harsh, imperious, admitting no reply. The veins in 
his forehead grew black, and the man looked "dangerous." If 
an officer failed him at such moments, he never forgave him ; as 
the man who attracted his attention, or who volunteered for a 



STUART. 29 

forlorn hope, was never forgotten. In his tenacious memory, 
Stuart registered everybody ; and in his command, his word, bad 
or good, largely set up or pulled down. 

To dwell still for a few moments upon the private and per- 
sonal character of the man — he possessed some accomplishments 
unusual in famous soldiers. He was an excellent writer, and his 
general orders were frequently very striking for their point and 
eloquence. That in which he called on his men after the ride 
around McClellan to " avenge Lataue ! " and that on the death 
of Major Pelham, his chief of artillery, are good examples. 
There was something of the Napoleonic fervour in these compo- 
sitions, and, though dashed off rapidly, they were pointed, cor- 
rect, and without bombast. His letters, when collected, will be 
found clear, forcible, and often full of grace, elegance, and wit. 
He occasionally wrote verses, especially parodies, for which he 
had a decided turn. Some of these were excellent. His letters, 
verses, and orders, were the genuine utterances of the man ; not 
laboured or "stiff," but spontaneous, flowing, and natural. He 
had in conversation some humour, but more wit; and o^ badinage 
it might almost be said that he was a master. His repartee was 
excellent, his address ever gay and buoyant, and in whatever 
society he was thrown he never seemed to lose that unaffected 
mirthfulness which charms us more perhaps than all other quali- 
ties in an associate. I need scarcely add that this uniform gaiety 
was never the result of the use of stimulants. Stuart never drank 
a single drop of an}'- intoxicating liquid in his whole life, ex- 
cept when he touched to his lips the cup of sacramental wine at 
the communion. He made that promise to his mother in his 
childhood, and never broke it. " If ever I am wounded," he 
said to me one day, " don't let them give me any whiskey or 
brandy." His other habits were as exemplary. I never saw him 
touch a card, and he never dreamed of uttering an oath under 
any provocation — nor would he permit it at his quarters. He 
attended church whenever he could, and sometimes, though not 
often, had service at his headquarters. One day a thoughtless 
ofl&cer, who did not " know his man," sneered at preachers in his 
presence, and laughed at some one who had entered the minis- 



30 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

try. Stuart's face flasbed; he exhibited unmistakable dis- 
pleasure, and said: "I regard the calling of a clergyman as the 
noblest in which any human being can etigage." This was the 
frivolous, irreverent, hard-drinking personage of some people's 
fancies — the man who was sneered at as little better than a 
reprobate by those whom he had punished, and who, therefore, 
hated and slandered him! 

IV. 

Such, in brief outline, was this " Flower of Cavaliers," as he 
moved in private, before the eyes of friends, and lived his life 
of gentleman. An estimate of the military and intellectual 
calibre of the man remains to be made — a rapid delineation of 
those traits of brain and nerve combined which made him the 
first cavalry officer of his epoch — 1 had nearly written of any 
epoch. 

Out of his peculiar sphere he did not display marked 
ability. His mind was naturally shrewd, and, except in some 
marked instances, he appeared to possess an instinctive know- 
ledge of men. But the processes of his brain, on ordinary occa- 
sions, exhibited rather activity and force than profoundness of 
insight. His mental organization seemed to be sound and prac- 
tical rather than deep and comprehensive. He read little when 
I knew him, and betrayed no evidences of wide culture. His 
education was that of the gentleman rather than the scholar. 
"Napoleon's Maxims," a translation of Jomini's Treatise on 
War, and one or two similar works, were all in which he 
appeared to take pleasure. His whole genius evidently lay in 
the direction of his profession, and even here many persons 
doubted the versatility of his foculties. It will remain an inte- 
resting problem whether he would have made a great infantry 
commander. He was confident of his own ability ; always 
resented the dictum that he was a mere " cavalry officer; " and I 
believe, at one time, it was the purpose of the Confederate author- 
ities to place him in command of a corps of infantry. Upon 
the question of his capacity, in this sphere, there will probably 



STUART. 81 

be many opinions. At Chancellorsville, when he succeeded 
Jackson, the troops, although quite enthusiastic about him, com- 
plained that he had led them too recklessly against artillery; 
and it is hard for those who knew the man to believe that, as an 
army commander, he would ever have consented to a strictly 
defensive campaign. Fighting was a necessity of his blood, and 
the slow movements of infantry did not suit his genius. With 
an army under him, it is probable that he would either have 
achieved magnificent successes or sustained overwhelming 
defeats. I confess I thought him equal to anything in his pro- 
fession, but competent judges doubted it. What every one 
agreed about, however, was his supreme genius for fighting 
cavalry. 

He always seemed to me to be intended by nature for this 
branch of the service. Some men are born to write great works, 
others to paint great pictures, others to rule over nations. Stuart 
was born to fight cavalry. It was only necessary to be with him 
m important movements or on critical occasions, to realize this, 
nis instinct was unfailing, his coup dfoeil that of the master. He 
was a trained soldier, and had truly graduated at West Point, 
but it looked like instinct rather than calculation — that rapid 
and unerring glance which took in at once every trait of the 
ground upon which he was operating, and anticipated every 
movement of his adversary. I never knew him to blunder. 
His glance was as quick, and reached its mark as surely as the 
lightning. Action followed like the thunder. In moments of 
great emergency it was wonderful to see how promptly he swept 
the whole field, and how quickly his mind was made up. He 
seemed to penetrate, as by a species of intuition, every design 
of his opponent, and his dispositions for attack or defence were 
those of a master-mind. Sometimes nothing but his unconquer- 
able resolution, and a sort of desperation, saved him from 
destruction ; but in almost every critical position which he was 
placed in during that long and arduous career, it was his won- 
derful acumen, no less than his unshrinking nerve, which 
brought him out victorious. 

This nerve had in it something splendid and chivalric. It 



32 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

never failed him for a moment on occasions whicli would have 
paralysed ordinary commanders. An instance was given in 
October, 1863. Near Auburn his column was surrounded by 
the whole of General Meade's army, then retiring before Gene- 
ral Lee. Stuart n^assed his command, kept cool, listened hour 
after hour as the night passed on, to the roll of the Federal 
artillery and the heavy tramp of their infantry within a few 
hundred yards of him, and at daylight placed his own guns in 
position and made a furious attack, under cover of which he 
safely withdrew. An earlier instance was his raid in rear of 
General McClellan, in June, 1862, when, on reaching the lower 
Chickahominy, he found the stream swollen and unfordable, 
while at every moment an enraged enemy threatened to fall 
upon his rear with an overpowering force of infantry, cavalry, 
and artillerj^ Although the men were much disheartened, and 
were gloomy enough at the certain fate which seemed to await 
them, Stuart remained cool and unmoved. He intended, he said 
afterwards, to " die game " if attacked, but he believed he could 
extricate his command. In four hours he had built a bridge, 
singing as he worked with the men ; atfd his column, with the 
guns, defiled across just as the enemy rushed on them. A third 
instance was the second ride around McClellan in Maryland, 
October, 1862 ; when coming to the Monocacy he found General 
Pleasanton, with a heavy force of cavalry, infantry, and artillery, 
in his path, but unhesitatingly attacked and cut his way through. 
Still another at Jack's Shop, where he charged both ways — the 
column in front, and that sent to cut him off — and broKe 
through. Still another at Fleetwood Hill, where he was 
attacked in front, flank, and rear, by nearly 17,000 infantry and 
cavalry, but charging from the centre outwards, swept them 
back, and drove them beyond the Eappahannock. 

Upon these occasions and twenty others, nothing but his stout 
nerve saved him from destruction. This quality, however, 
would not have served him without the quick military instinct 
of the born soldier. His great merit as a commander was, that 
his conception of "the situation" was as rapid and JQst as his 
nerve was steady. His execution was unfaltering, but the brain 



STUART. BB 

had devised clearly what was to be done before tbe arm was 
raised to strike. It was this which distinguished Stuart from 
others — the promptness and accuracy of his brain work " under 
pressure," and at moments when delay was destruction. The 
faculty would have achieved great results in any department of 
arms; but in cavalry, the most "sudden and dangerous" branch 
of the service, where everything is decided in a moment as it 
were, it made Stuart one of the first soldiers of his epoch. 
With equal — or not largely unequal — forces opposed to him, he 
was never whipped. More than once he was driven back, and 
two or three times " badly hurt ; " but it was not the superior 
genius of Buford, Stoneman, Pleasanton, or other adversaries, 
which achieved those results. It was the presence of an obstacle 
which his weapon could not break. Numbers were too much 
for brain and acumen, and reckless fighting. The hammer was 
shattered by the anvil. 



Stuart was forced, by the necessities of the struggle, the nature 
of the country, and the all-work he had to perform, to depend 
much upon sharp-shooting. But he preferred pure cavalry 
fighting. He fought his dismounted skirmishers with obstinacy, 
and was ever present with them, riding along the line, a conspi 
cuous target for the enemy's bullets, cheering them on. But it 
was in the legitimate sphere of cavalry that he was greatest. 
The skirmishing was the "hard work." He had thus to keep 
a dangerous enemy off General Lee's flanks as the infantry 
moved through the gaps of the Blue Eidge towards Pennsylvania, 
or to defend the line of the Eappahannock, when some Federal 
commander with thousands of horsemen, " came down like a 
wolf" on General Lee's little "fold," It was here, I think, that 
Stuart vindicated his capacity to fight infantry, for such were 
the dismounted cavalry ; and he held his ground before swarm- 
ing enemies with a nerve and persistence which resembled Jack- 
son's. 

It was in the raid, the flank movement, the charge, and the 

3 



34: WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

falling back, with cavalry proper, however, that he exhibited the 
most conspicuous traits of the soldier. The foundation of his 
successes here was a wonderful energy. The man was a war- 
machine which never flagged. Day or night he was ready to 
mount at the sound of the bugle. Other commanders, like the 
bonus Eomerus, drowsed at times, and nodded, suffering their 
zeal to droop ; but Stuart was sleepless, and General Lee could 
count on him at any instant. To that inexhaustible physical 
strength was united a mentality as untiring. The mind, like the 
body, could " go day and night," and needed no rest. When all 
around him were broken down, Stuart still remained fresh and 
unwearied ; ready for council or for action ; to give his views 
and suggest important movements, or to march and make an 
attack. His organization was of the " hair- trigger " kind, and 
the well-tempered spring never lost its elasticity. He would 
give orders, and very judicious ones, in his sleep — as on the 
night of the second Manassas. When utterly prostrated by 
whole days and nights spent in the saddle, he would stop by the 
roadside, lie down without pickets or videttes, even in an enemy's 
country — as once he did coming from Carlisle, Pennsylvania, in 
July, 1863 — sleep for an hour, wrapped in his cape and resting 
against the trunk of a tree, and then mount again, as fresh 
apparentl}'", as if he had slumbered from sunset to dawn. "^ 

As his physical energies thus never seemed to droop, or 
sprang with a rebound from the weight on them, so he never 
desponded. A stouter heart in the darkest hour I have never 
seen. No clouds could depress him or disarm his courage. He 
met ill-fortune with a smile, and drove it before him with his 
gallant laughter. Gloom could not live in his presence, and the 
whole race of "croakers " were shamed into hopefulness by his 
inspiring words and demeanour. Defeat and disaster seemed to 
make him stronger and more resolute, and he rose under 
pressure. In moments of the most imminent peril to the very 
existence of his command, I have seen him drum carelessly with 
his fingers on the knee thrown over the pommel of his saddle, 
reflect for an instant without any trace of excitement, and then 
give the order to cut a path through the enemy, without the 



STUART. 35 

change of a muscle. At such moments, it was plain that Stuart 
coolly made up his mind to do his best, and leave the rest to the 
chances of arms. His manner said as plainly as any word : "I 
am going to make my way out or die — the thing is decided upon 
— why make a to-do about it ? " So perfect was his equanimity 
upon such occasions, that persons ignorant of the extent of the 
peril could not realize that any existed. It was hard to believe, 
in presence of this "heart of oak," with his cool and indifferent 
manner, his composed- -tones and careless smile, that death or 
capture stared the command in the face. And yet these were 
just the occasions when Stuart's face of bronze was most un- 
moved. Peril brought out his strength, Tiie heaviest clouds 
must obscure the landscape before his splendid buoyancy and 
" heart of hope " were fully revealed. That stout heart seemed 
invincible, and impending ruin could not shake it. I have seen 
him strung, aroused, his eye flaming, his voice hoarse with the 
mingled joy and passion of battle ; but have never seen him 
flurried or cast down, much less paralysed by a disaster. When 
not rejoicing like the hunter on the traces of the game, he was 
cool, resolute, and determined, evidently " to do or die." The 
mens cequa in arduis shone in the piercing blue eye, and his un- 
daunted bearing betrayed a soul which did not mean to yield — 
which might be crushed and shattered, but would not bend. 
When pushed hard and hunted down by a swarm of foes, as he 
was more than once, Stuart presented a splendid spectacle. He 
met the assault like an athlete of the Eoman amphitheatre, and 
fought with the ferocity of a tiger. He looked " dangerous " 
at such moments ; and those adversaries who knew him best, 
advanced upon their great opponent thus standing at bay, with a 
caution which was born of experience. 

These observations apply with especial justice to the various 
occasions when Stuart held with his cavalry cordon the country 
north of the Eappahannock and east of the Blue Ridge, while 
General Lee either advanced or retired through the gaps of the 
mountains. The work which he did here will remain among his 
most important services. He is best known to the world by his 
famous " raids," as they were erroneously called, by his circuits 



g6 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

of McClellan's army in Virginia and in Maryland, and other 
movements of a similar character. This, however, was not his 
.great work. He will live in history as the commander of Lee's 
cavalry, and for the great part he played in that leader's most 
important movements. What Lee designed when he moved 
Northward, or fell back from the valley, it was a matter of the 
utmost interest to the enemy to know, and persistent efforts were 
made by them to strike the Confederate flank and discover. 
Stuart was, however, in the way with his cavalry. The road to 
the Blue Ridge was obstructed ; and somewhere near Middleburg, 
Upperville, or Paris, the advancing column would find the 
wary cavalier. Then took place an obstinate, often desperate 
struggle — on Stuart's part to hold his ground ; on the enemy's 
part to break through the cordon. Crack troops — infantry, 
cavalry, and artillery — were sent upon this important work, 
and the most determined officers of the United States Army 
commanded them. 

Then came the tug of war. Stuart must meet whatever force 
was brought against him, infantry as well as cavalry, and match 
himself with the best brains of the Federal army in command 
of them. It was often " diamond cut diamond." In the fields 
around Upperville, and everywhere along the road to Ashby's 
Gap, raged a war of giants. The infantry on both sides heard 
the distant roar of the artillery crowning every hill, and thought 
the cavalry was skirmishing a little. The guns were only the 
signal of a hand-to-hand struggle. Desperate charges were 
made upon them ; sabres clashed, carbines banged ; in one 
great hurly-burly of rushing horses, ringing sabres, cracking 
pistols, and shouts which deafened, the opposing columns clashed 
together. If Stuart broke them, he pressed them hotl}^, and 
never rested until he swept them back for miles. If they broke 
Stuart, he fell back with! the obstinate ferocity of a bulldog; 
fought with his sharpshooters in every field, with his Horse Ar- 
tillery upon every knoll ; and if they " crowded him " too closely 
he took command of his column, and went at them with the 
sabre, resolved to repulse them or die. It was upon this great 
theatre that he displayed all his splendid faculties of nerve, 



STUART. 37 

judgment, dash, and obstinacy — his quickness of conception, 
rapidity of decision, and that fire of onset before which few 
opponents could stand. The infantry did not know much about 
these hot engagements, and cherished the flattering view that they 
did all the fighting. General Lee, however, knew accurately 
what was done, and what was not done. In Spotsylvania, after 
Stuart's fall, he exclaimed: " If Stuart only were here! lean 
scarcely think of him without weeping." 

The great cavalier had protected the Southern flanks upon a 
hundred movements ; guarded the wings upon many battle-fields, 
penetrated the enemy's designs, and given General Lee informa- 
tion in every campaign ; and now when the tireless brain was 
still, and the piercing eyes were dim, the country began to com- 
prehend the full extent of the calamity at Yellow Tavern, in 
May, 1864, and to realize the irreparable loss sustained by the 
cause when this bulwark fell. 

VL 

I have noticed Stuart's stubbornness, nerve, and coolness. His 
dash and impetuosity in the charge have scarcely been alluded 
to, and yet it was these characteristics of the man which chiefly 
impressed the public mind. On a former page he has been com- 
pared to Eupert, the darling of love and war, who was never so 
well satisfied as when dasliing against the Roundhead pikes and 
riding down his foes. Stuart seems to have inherited that trait 
of the family blood — for it seems tolerably well established that 
he and Rupert were descended from the same stock, and scions 
of that family which has given to the world men of brain and 
courage, as well as faineans and libertines. To notice briefly 
this not uninteresting point, the "family likeness" in the traits 
of Stuart and Prince Rupert is very curious. Both were utterly 
devoted to a principle which was their life-blood — in Rupert it 
was the love of royalty, in Stuart the love of Virginia. Both 
were men of the most impetuous temper, chafing at opposition, 
and ready at any instant to match themselves against their adver- 
saries, and conquer or die. Both were devoted to the "love of 



88 WEAEING OF THE GRAY. 

ladies," gallant to the echo ; of a proud and splendid loyalty to 
their word ; of unshrinking courage ; kind and compassionate 
in temper, gay and smiling in address ; fonder of fighting than 
of looking to the commissariat ; adored by their men, who 
approached them without fear of a repulse ; cavalry-men in every 
drop of their blood ; fond of brilliant colours, splendid pageants, 
the notes of the bugle, the glitter of arms : Rupert with his 
snowy plume, Stuart with his black one ; — both throwing over 
their shoulders capes of dazzling scarlet, unworn by men who 
are not attached to gay colours ; both taking a white dog for a 
pet; both proud, gay, unswerving, indomitable, disdainful of 
low things, passionately devoted to glory ; both men in brain 
and character at an age when others are mere boys ; both famous 
before thirty — and for ever — such were the points of resemblance 
between these two men. Those familiar with the character of 
the greatest cavalry-man of the English struggle, and with the 
traits of Stuart, the most renowned of the recent conflict, will 
not fail to see the likeness. 

But I pass to " Stuart in the charge." Here the man was 
superb. It was in attack, after all, that his strongest faculties 
were exhibited. Indeed, the whole genius and temperament of 
the Virginian were for advancing, not retreating. He could fall 
back stubbornly, as has been shown ; and he certainly did so in 
a masterly manner, disputing every inch of ground with his 
adversary, and giving way to an enemy's advance under bloody 
protest. At these times he displayed the obstinate tamper of the 
old Ironsides of Cromwell, when they retired in serried ranks, 
ready to turn as they slowly retreated, and draw blood with their 
iron claws. But when advancing upon an adversary — more 
than all in the impetuous charge — Stuart was no longer the 
Roundhead ; he was the Cavalier. Cavalier he was by birth 
and breeding and temperament; and he sprang to meet an 
enemy, as Rupert drove forward in the hot struggle of the past 
in England. You could see, then, that Stuart was in his ele- 
ment. Once having formed his column for the charge, and given 
his ringing order to " Form in fours ! draw sabre ! " it was neck 
or nothing. When he thus " came to the sabre," there was no 



STUART. 39 

such word as fail with him. Once in motion to hurl his column 
against his adversary, he seemed to act upon the Scriptural pre- 
cept to forget those things which were behind, and press on to 
those which were before. Tliat was the enemy in front ; and to 
ride over, and cut right and left among them, was the work 
befare him. At such moments there was something grand in 
the magnificent fire and rush of the soldier. He seemed strong 
enough to ride down a world. Only a glance was needed to 
tell you that this man had made up his mind to break through 
and trample under foot what opposed him, or "die trying." 
His men knew this ; and, when he took personal command of 
the column, as he most often did, prepared for tough work. His 
occasional roughness of address to both ofiicers and men had made 
him bitter enemies, but the admiration which he aroused was 
unbounded. The men were often heard to say, in critical places : 
" There goes old Jeb to the front, boys ; it's all right." And an 
of&cer whom he liad offended, and who hated him bitterly, 
declared with an oath that he was the greatest cavalry com- 
mander that had ever lived. The reported words of General 
Sedgwick, of the United States Army, may be added here: 
" Stuart is the greatest cavalry officer ever foaled in North 
America." 

The impetuosity here noted was undoubtedly one of the most 
striking traits of the man. In a charge, Stuart seemed on fire, 
and was more the Chief of Squadron than the Corps Commander. 
He estimated justly his own value as a fighting man, when he 
said one day: "My proper place would be major of artil- 
lery ; " and it is certain that in command of a battalion of field- 
pieces, he would have fought until the enemy were at the very 
muzzles of his guns. But in the cavalry he had even a better 
field for his love of close fighting. To come to the sabre best 
suited his fiery organization, and he did come to it, personally, 
on many occasions. He preferred saying, " Come on " to " Go 
on," The men declared that he was reckless, but no one could 
say that he had ever sent his column where he was not ready to 
go himself If he made a headlong and determined attack upon 
an overpowering force — a thing common with him — he was in 



40 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

front himself, or fighting among the men. He never seemed to 
feel, as far as my observation went, that his life was any more 
valuable than that of the humblest private soldier. After one 
of these occasions of reckless exposure of himself, I said to him : 
"General, you ought not to put yourself in the way of the 
bullets so ; some day you will be killed." He sighed and 
replied: "Oh, I reckon not; but if I am, they will easily find 
somebody to fill my place." He had evidently determined to 
spend and be sjjent in the Southern struggle, which had aroused 
his most passionate sympathies. This love of native land came 
to add a magnificent fervour to the natural combativeness of the 
man. As a " free lance," Stuart would have been careless of 
his person ; but in the Southern struggle he was utterly 
reckless. 

This indifference to danger was evidently a trait of blood, and 
wholly unaffected. Nor, for a long time, did his incessant expo- 
sure of himself bring him so much as a scratch. On all the 
great battle-fields of Virginia, Maryland, and Penns^dvania, as 
well as in the close and bitter conflicts of his cavalry at Fleet- 
wood, Auburn, Upperville, Middleburg, South Mountain, 
Monocacy, Williamsport, Shepherdstown, Paris, Barbee's, Jef- 
fersonton, Culpeper Court-House, Brandy, Kelly's Ford, Spot- 
sylvania — in these, and a hundred other hotly-contested actions, 
he was in the very thickest of the fight, cheering on the sharp- 
shooters, directing his artillery, or leading his column in the 
charge, but was never hurt. Horses were shot under him, bul- 
lets struck his equipments, pierced his clothes, or cut off curls of 
his hair, as at Fredericksburg, but none ever wounded him. In 
the closest melee of clashing sabres the plume of Stuart was 
unscathed ; no sword's edge ever touched him. He seemed to 
possess a charmed life, and to be invulnerable, like Achilles. 
Shell, canister, and round-shot tore their way through the ranks 
around him, overthrowing men and horses — many a brave fellow 
at his side fell, pierced by the hissing bullets of Federal carbines— 
but Stuart, like Kupert, never received a wound. The ball 
which struck and laid him low at the Yellow Tavern on that 
black day of May, 1864, was the first which touched him in the 



STUART. 41 

war. In a hundred battles they had passed to the left and right 
of him, sparing him. 

VII. 

The foregoing presents as accurate an outline of Stuart as the 
present writer, after a close association with him for two or three 
years, could draw. No trait is feigned or fanciful, and the pic- 
ture is not exaggerated, though it may seem so to some. The 
organization of this man was exceptional and very remarkable. 
The picture seems a fancy piece, perhaps, but it is the actual 
portrait. The gaiety, nerve, courage, dash, and stubborn reso- 
lution of that man were as great as here described. These were 
the actual traits which made him fill so great a space in the pub- 
lic eye ; and as what he effected was not " done in a corner," so 
what he was became plain to all. 

He was hated bitterly by some who had felt the weight of his 
hot displeasure at their shortcomings, and some of these people 
tried to traduce and slander him. They said he was idle and 
negligent of his duties— he, the hardest worker and most wary 
commander I ever saw. They said, in whispers behind his 
back — in that tone which has been described as " giggle-gabble " 
— that he thought more of dancing, laughing, and trifling with 
young ladies than of his military work, when those things were 
only the relaxations of the man after toil. They said that ladies 
could wheedle and cajole him — when he arrested hundreds, 
remained inexorable to their petitions, and meted out to the 
"fairest eyes that ever have shone " the strictest military justice. 
They said that he had wreaths of flowers around his horse, and 
was " frolicking " with his staff at Culpeper Court-House, so 
that his headquarters on Fleetwood Hill were surprised and cap- 
tured in June, 1863, when he had not been at the Court-House 
for days ; sent off every trace of his headquarters at dawn, six 
hours before the enemy advanced ; and was ready for them at 
every point, and drove them back with heavy loss beyond the 
river. In like manner the Sleeks sneered at his banjo, sneered 
at his gay laughter, sneered at his plume, his bright colours, and 



42 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

his merry songs. The same good friends invented stories of 
rebukes he had incurred from General Lee, when he uniformly 
received from that great friend and commander the highest evi- 
dences of regard and contidence. These winged arrows, shot in 
secret by the hand of calumny, which in plain Saxon are called 
lies, accompanied Stuart everywhere at one period of his career; 
but the Southern people could not be brought to believe them. 
They flushed the face of the proud and honest cavalier, some- 
times, and made the blue eyes flash ; but what could he do ? 
The calumnies were nameless ; their authors slunk into shadow, 
and shrank from him. So he ended by laughing at them, as the 
country did, and going on his way unmindful of them. He 
answered slander by brave action — calumny by harder work, 
more reckless exposure of himself, and by grander achievements. 
Those secret enemies might originate the falsehoods aimed at 
him from their safe refuge in some newspaper office, or behind 
some other " bomb-proof" shelter — he would fight. That was 
his reply to them, and the scorn extinguished them. The honest 
gentleman and great soldier was slandered, and he lived down 
the slander — fighting it with his sword and his irreproachable 
life, not with his tongue. 

When death came to him in the bloom of manhood, and the 
flush of a fame which will remain one of the suprcmest glories of 
Virginia, Stuart ranked with the preux chevalier Bayard, the 
knight " without reproach or fear." 

The brief and splendid career in which he won his great 
renown, and that name of the "Flower of Cavaliers," has 
scarcely been touched on in this rapid sketch. The arduous 
work which made him so illustrious has not been described — I 
have been able to give only an outline of the man. That pic- 
ture may be rude and hasty, but it is a likeness. This was 
Stuart. The reader must have formed some idea of him, hasty 
and brief as the delineation has necessarily been. I have tried 
to draw him as the determined leader, full of fire and force ; the 
stubborn fighter; the impetuous cavalier in the charge; the, at 
times, hasty and arrogant, but warm-hearted friend ; the devoted 
Christian, husband, and father ; the gayest of companions ; full 



STUAET. 48 

of fun, frolic, laughter, courage, hope, buoyancy, and a certain 
youthful joyousness which made his presence like the sunshine. 
Upon this last trait I have dwelt much — the youth, and joy, 
and hope, which shone in his brilliant eyes and rang in his 
sonorous laughter. He passed before you like an incarnate 
spring, all mirth and sunshine ; but behind was the lightning. 
In those eyes as fresh and blue as the May morning, lurked the 
storm and the thunderbolt. Beneath the flowers was the hard 
steel battle-axe. With that weapon he struck like Coeur de Lion, 
and few adversaries stood before it. The joy, romance, and 
splendour of the early years of chivalry flamed in his regard, and 
his brave blood drove him on to combat. In the lists, at Came- 
lot, he would have charged "before the eyes of ladies and of 
kings," like Arthur ; on the arena of the war in Virginia he fol- 
lowed his instincts. Bright eyes were ever upon the daring 
cavalier there, and his floating plume was like Henry of Na- 
varre's to man}' stout horsemen who looked to him as their chosen 
leader ; but, better still, the eyes of Lee and Jackson were fixed 
on him with fullest confidence. Jackson said, when his wound 
disabled him at Chancellorsville, and Stuart succeeded him : 
" Go back to General Stuart and tell him to act upon his own 
judgment, and do what he thinks best — I have implicit confi- 
dence in him." In Spots3dvania, as we have seen, General Lee 
" could scarcely think of him without weeping." The implicit 
confidence of Jackson, and the tears of Lee, are enough to fill 
the measure of one man's life and fame. 

Such was Stuart — such the figure which moved before the 
eyes of the Southern people for those three years of glorious 
encounters, and then fell like some " monarch of the woods," 
which makes the whole forest resound as it crashes down. 
Other noble forms there were ; but that " heart of oak " of the 
stern, hard fibre, the stubborn grain, even where it lies is might- 
iest. Even dead and crumbled into dust, the form of Stuart 
still fills the eye, and the tallest dwindle by his side — he seems 
so great. 



II. 

JACKSON. 



At five in the evening, on the 27th of June, 1862, General 
Stonewall Jackson made his appearance on the field of Cold 
Harbour. Fresh from the hot conflicts of the Yallej — an 
athlete covered with the dust and smoke of the arena — he came 
now with his veteran battalions to enter upon the. still more 
desperate conflicts of the lowland. 

At that time many persons asked, " Who is Jackson ? " All 
we thep knew of the famous leader was this — that he was born a 
poor ]ioj beyond the Alleghanies ; managed to get to West 
Point ;' embarked in the Mexican war as lieutenant of artillery, 
where he fought his guns with such obstinacy that his name 
soon became renowned ; and then, retiring from active service, 
became a Professor at the Lexington Military School. Here 
the world knew him only as an eccentric but deeply pious man, 
and a somewhat commonplace lecturer. Stiff and rigid in his 
pew at church, striding awkwardly from his study to his lecture- 
room, ever serious, thoughtful, absent-miftded in appearance — 
such was the figure of the future Lieutenant-General, the esti- 
mate of whose faculties by the gay young students may be 
imagined from their nickname for him, " Fool Tom Jackson." 

In April, 1861, Fool Tom Jackson became Colonel of Virginia 
volunteers, and went to Harper's Ferry, soon afterwards fight- 
ing General Patter.son at Falling Water, thence descending to 
Manassas. Here the small force — 2,611 muskets — of Brigadier- 
General Jackson saved the day. Without them the Federal 



JACKSON. 45 

column would have flanked and routed Beauregard. Bee, 
forced back, shattered and overwhelmed, galloped up to Jackson 
and groaned out, " General, they are beating us back ! " Jack- 
son's set face did not move. " Sir," he said, " we will give them 
the bayonet." Without those 2,611 muskets that morning, 
good-by to Beauregard ! In the next year came the Valley 
campaign ; the desperate and most remarkable fight at Kerns- 
town ; the defeat and retreat of Banks from Strasburg and Win- 
chester ; the retreat, in 'turn, of his great opponent, timed with 
such mathematical accuracy, that at Strasburg he strikes with 
his right hand and his left the columns of Fremont and Shields, 
closing in from east and west to destroy him — strikes them and 
passes through, continuing his retreat up the Yalley. Then 
comes the last scene— friz's coronal. At Port Eepublic his 
adversaries strike at him in two columns. He throws himself 
against Fremont at Cross Keys and checks his advance ; then 
attacks Shields beyond the river, and after one of the hottest 
battles of the war, fought nearly man to man, defeats him. 
Troops never fought better than the Federals there, but they 
were defeated; and Jackson, by forced marches, hastened to fall 
upon McClellan's right wing on the Chickahominy. 

These events had, in June, 1862, attracted all eyes to Jackson. 
People began to associate his name with the idea of unvarying 
success, and to regard him as the incarnate genius of victory. 
War seemed in his person to have become a splendid pageant of 
unceasing triumph ; and from the smoke of so many battle- 
fields rose before the imaginative public eye, the figure of a 
splendid soldier on his prancing steed, with his fluttering banner, 
preceded by bugles, and advancing in all the pride, pomp, and 
circumstance of glorious war. Tlie actual man was somewhat 
difierent; and in this sketch I shall try to draw his outline 
as he really looked. In doing so, an apparent egotism will be 
necessary ; but this may be pardoned as inseparable from the 
subject. What men see is more interesting than what they 
think, often ; what the writer saw of this great man will here be 
recorded. 

It was late in the afternoon of this memorable day, and A. P. 



46 WEAEING OF THE GRAY. 

Hill had just been repulsed with heavy slaughter from General 
McClellan's admirable works near New Cold Harbour, when 
the writer of this was sent by General Stuart to ascertain if 
Jackson's corps had gone in, and what were his dispositions for 
battle, A group near a log cabin, twenty paces from Old Cold 
Harbour House, was pointed out to me ; and going there, I asked 
for the General. Some one pointed to a figure seated on a log 
— dingy, bending over, and writing on his knees. A faded, 
yellow cap of the cadet pattern was drawn over his eyes ; his 
fingers, holding a pencil, trembled. His voice, in addressing 
me, was brief, curt, but not uncourteous ; and then, his dispatch 
having been sent, he mounted and rode slowly alone across 
the field. A more curious figure I never saw. He sat his raw- 
boned sorrel — not the " old sorrel," however — like an automa- 
ton. Knees drawn up, body leaning forward ; the whole figure 
stiff, angular, unbending. His coat was the dingiest of the 
dingy ; originally gray, it seemed to have brought away some 
of the dust and dirt of every region in which he had bivouacked. 
His faded cap was pulled down so low upon the forehead that 
he was compelled to raise his chin into the air to look from 
beneath the rim. Under that rim flashed two keen and piercing 
eyes — dark, with a strange brilliancy, and full of " fight." The 
nose was prominent ; the moustache heavy upon the firm lip, 
close set beneath ; the rough, brown beard did not conceal the 
heavy fighting jaw. All but the eye was in apparent repose ; 
there was no longer any tremor of anxiety. The soldier seemed 
to have made all his arrangements, " done his best," and he 
evidently awaited the result with entire coolness. There was 
even something absent and abstracted in his manner, as he rode 
slowly to and fro, sucking a lemon, and looking keenly at you 
when you spoke, answering briefly when necessary. 

Twice more I saw him that day — first in the evening, in the 
midst of a furious shelling, riding slowly with General Stuart 
among his guns ; his face lit up by the burning brushwood — a 
face perfectly calm and unmoved. And again at midnight, 
when, as I slept in a fence corner, I felt a hand upon my shoul- 
der, and a voice said, " Where is the General ? " It was 



JACKSON. 47 

Jackson, riding about by himself; and be tied his horse, lay 
down beside General Stuart, and began with, " Well, yesterday's 
was the most terrific fire of musketry I ever heard ! " Words of 
unwonted animation coming from Jackson — that most matter-of- 
fact of speakers, and expressing much. 

From this time, Jackson became the idol of his troops and the 
country. Wherever he moved among the camps he was met 
by cheers ; and so unvarying was this reception of him, that a 
distant yell would often draw from his men the exclamation, 
" That's Jackson or a rabbit ! " the sight of the soldier or the 
appearance of a hare being alone adequate to arouse this tremen- 
dous excitement. From the day of Cold Harbour, success con- 
tinued to crown him — at Cedar Mountain, the second Manassas, 
Harper's Ferry, Sharpsburg, where he met the full weight of 
McClellan's right wing under Hooker, and repulsed it, and 
Chancellorsville. When he died, struck down by the hands of 
his own men, he was the most famous and the most beloved of 
Southern commanders. 

II. 

His popularity was great in degree, but more singular in 
character. No general was ever so beloved by the good and 
pious of the land. Old ladies received him wherever he went 
with a species of enthusiasm, and I think he preferred their 
society and that of clergymen to any other. In such society his 
kindly nature seemed to expand, and his countenance was 
charming. He would talk for hours upon religious subjects, 
never wearj'-, it seemed, of such discourse, and at such moments 
his smile had the sweetness and simplicity of childhood. The 
hard intellect was resting, and the heart of the soldier spoke in 
this congenial converse upon themes more dear to him than all 
others. 1 have seen him look serene and perfectly happy, con- 
versing with a venerable lady upon their relative religious 
experiences. Children were also great favourites with him, and 
he seldom failed to make them love him. When at his head- 
quarters below Fredericksburg, in 1863, he received a splendid 



48 WEAEING OF THE GRAY. 

new cap, gorgeous with a broad band of dazzling gold braid, 
which was greatly admired by a child one day in his quarters. 
Thereupon Jackson drew her between bis knees, ripped oflf the 
braid, and binding it around her curls, sent her away delighted. 
With maidens of more advanced age, however, the somewhat 
shy General was less at his ease. At " Hay field," near the 
same headquarters, and about the same time, the hospitable 
family were one day visited by Generals Lee, Jackson, and 
Stuart, when a little damsel of fourteen confided to her friend 
General Lee her strong desire to kiss General Jackson. General 
Lee, always fond of pleasantry, at once informed Jackson of the 
young lady's desire,, and the great soldier's face was covered 
with blushes and confusion. An amusing picture, too, is drawn 
of the General when he fell into the hands of the ladies of 
Martinsburg, and they cut off almost every button of his coat 
as souvenirs. The beleaguered hero would have preferred 
storming a line of intrenchments. 

Jackson had little humour. He was not sour or gloomy, nor 
did he look grimly upon "fun" as something which a good 
Presbyterian should avoid. He was perfectly cheerful, liberal 
and rational in this as in everything ; but he had no ear for 
humour, as some persons have none for music. A joke was a 
mj^sterious affair to him. Only when so very "broad" and 
staring, that he who ran might read it, did humour of any sort 
strike Jackson. Even his thick coating of matter-of-fact was 
occasionally pierced, however. At Port Eepublic a soldier said 
to his companion : " I wish these Yankees were in hell," where- 
upon the other replied : " I don't ; for if they were, old Jack 
would be within half a mile of them, with the Stonewall Bri- 
gade in front ! " When this was told to Jackson, he is said to 
have burst out into hearty laughter, most unusual of sounds upon 
the lips of the serious soldier. But such enjoyment of fun was 
rare with him. I was never more struck with this than one day 
at Fredericksburg, at General Stuart's headquarters. There was 
an indifferent brochure published in those days, styled " Abram, 
a Poem," in the comic preface to which, Jackson was presented 
in a most ludicrous light, seated on a stump at Oxhill and gnaw- 



JACKSON. 49 

ing at a roasting ear, while a wbole North Carolina brigade 
behind him in line of battle was doing likewise. General Stuart 
read it with bursts of laughter to his friend, and Jackson also' 
laughed with perfect good-humour ; but no sooner had the book 
been closed than he seemed to forget its existence, and said with 
an irresistibly matter-of-fact expression which made this writer 
retire to indulge his own laughter: '■^ By the hy^ in going to Cut- 
'pejper^ where did you cross the Rapidan ? " His manner was 
unmistakable. It said : " My dear Stuart, all that is no doubt 
very amusing to you, and I laugh because you do ; but it don't 
interest me." On one occasion only, to the knowledge of the 
present writer, did Jackson betray something like dry humour. 
It was at Harper's Ferry, in September, 1862, just after the sur- 
render of that place, and when General Lee was falling back 
upon Sharpsburg. Jackson was standing on the bridge over 
the Potomac when a courier, out of breath, and seriously " de- 
moralized," galloped up to him, and announced that McClellan 
was within an hour's march of the place with an enormous army. 
Jackson was conversing with a Federal officer at the moment, 
and did not seem to hear the courier, who repeated his message 
with every mark of agitation. Thereupon Jackson turned round 
and said : "Has he any cattle with him ? " The reply was that 
there were thousands. " "Well," said Jackson, with his dry smile, 
" you can go. My men can whip any army that comes well 
provisioned." Of wit, properly speaking, he had little. But 
at times his brief, wise, matter-of-fact sentences became epigram- 
matic. Dr. Hunter McGuire," his medical director, once gave 
him some whiskey when he was wet and fatigued. Jackson made 
a wry face in swallowing it, and Dr. McGuire asked if it was 
not good whiskey. "Ob, yes," replied Jackson, "I like liquor, 
the taste and effect — thais why I donH drink itP 

m. 

I have endeavoured to draw an outline of Jackson on horse- 
back — the stiff, gaunt figure, dingy costume, piercing eyes ; the 
large, firm, iron mouth, and the strong fighting-jaw. A few 

4 



50 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

more words upon these personal peculiarities. The soldier's 
face was one of decided character, but not eminently striking. 
One circumstance always puzzled me — Jackson's lofty forehead 
seemed to indicate unmistakably a strong predominance of the 
imagination and fancy^ and a very slight tendency or aptitude 
for mathematics. It was the forehead of a poet ! — the statement 
is almost a jest. Jackson the stern, intensely matter-of-fact 
mathematician, a man of fancy ! Never did forehead so contra- 
dict phrenology before. A man more guiltless of "poetry" in 
thought or deed, I suppose never lived. His poetry was the 
cannon's flash, the rattle of musketry, and the lurid cloud of bat- 
tle. Then, it is true, his language, ordinarily so curt and cold, 
grew eloquent, almost tragic and heroic at times, from the deep 

feeling of the man. At Malvern Hill, General received 

an order from Jackson to advance and attack the Federal forces 
in their fortified position, for which purpose he must move 

across an open field swept by their artillery. General was 

alwa3^s " impracticable," though thoroughly brave, and gallop- 
ing up to Jackson said, almost rudely, "Did you send me an 
order to advance over that field ? " "I did, sir," was the cold 
reply of Jackson, in whose eyes began to glow the light of a 

coming storm. " Impossible, sir !" exclaimed General in 

a tone almost of insubordination, " my men will be annihilated! 
— annihilated, I tell you, sir ! " Jackson raised his finger, and 
in his cold voice there was an accent of menace which cooled 
his opponent like a hand of ice. 

"General ," he said, "I always endeavour to take care of 

my wounded and to bury my dead. Obey that order, sir ! " 

The officer who was present at this scene and related it to me, 
declares that he never saw a deeper suppression of concentrated 
anger than that which shone in Jackson's eye, or heard a human 
voice more menacing. 

There were other times when Jackson, stung and aroused, 
was driven from his propriety, or, at least, out of his coolness. 
The winter of 1861-2 was such an occasion. He had made his 
expedition to Morgan county, and, in spite of great suffering 
among the troops, had forced the Federal garrisons at Bath ^nd 



JACKSON. 51 

Eomney to retire, and accomplished all hisends. General Loring 
was then left at Romnej, and Jackson returned to Winchester. 
All that is well known. What follows is not known to many. 
General Loring conceived an intense enmity for Jackson, and 
made such representations at Richmond, that an order was sent 
to Loring direct^ not through Jackson, commanding in the Val- 
ley, recalling him. Jackson at once sent in his resignation. 
The scene which took place between him and his friend Colonel 
Boteler, thereupon, was a stormy one. The Colonel in vain 
tried to persuade him that he ought to recall his resignation. 
•' No, sir,'- exclaimed Jackson, striding fiercely up and down, 
"I will not hold a command upon terms of that sort. Twill 
not have those people at Richmond interfering in my plans, and 
sending orders to an officer under me, without even informing 
me. JN^o soldier can endure it. I care not for myself If I 
know myself I do not act from anger — but if I yield now they 
will treat better men in the same way ! I am nobody — but the 
protest must be made here, or Lee and Johnston will be meddled 
with as I am.*" It was only after the resignation had been with- 
drawn by the Governor of Virginia without his authority, and 
explanations, apologies, protestations, came from the head of the 
War Office, that the design was given up. Such is a little mor- 
ceaii of private history, showing how Jackson came near not 
commanding in the Valley in 1862. 

With the exception of these rare occasions when his great 
passions were aroused, Jackson was an apparently commonplace 
person, and his bearing neither striking, graceful, nor impressive. 
He rode ungracefully, walked with an awkward stride, and 
wanted ease of manner. He never lost a certain shyness in 
company ; and I remember his air of boyish constraint, one 
day, when, in leaving an apartment full of friends, he hesitated 
whether to shake hands with every one or not. Catching the 
eye of the present writer, who designed remaining, he hastily 
extended his hand, shook hands, and quickly retired, apparently 
relieved. His bearing thus wanted ease; but, personally, he 
made a most agreeable impression by his deliglitfully natural 
courtesy. His smile was as sweet as a child's, and evidently 



52' WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

sprang from his goodness of heart. A lady said it was "an- 
gelic." His voice in ordinary conversation was subdued, and 
pleasant from its friendly and courteous tone, though injured by 
the acquired habit — a West Pointism — of cutting off, so to speak, 
each word, and leaving each to take care of itself. This was 
always observable in his manner of talking ; but briefest of the 
brief, curtest of the curt, was General Stonewall Jackson on the 
field of battle and " at work." His words were then let fall as 
though under protest ; all superfluities were discarded; and the 
monosyllables jerked from his lips seemed clipped off, one by 
one, and launched to go upon separate ways. The eccentricities 
of the individual were undoubtedly a strong element of his popu- 
larity; the dress, habits, bearing of the man, all made his sol- 
diers adore him. General Lee's air of collected dignity, mingled 
with a certain grave and serious pride, aroused rather admiration 
than affection — though during the last years of the war, the 
troops came to love as much as they admired him : to arrive at 
which point they had only to know the great warm heart which 
beat under that calm exterior, making its possessor " one alto- 
gether lovely." Jackson's appearance and manners, on the con- 
trary, were such as conciliate a familiar, humorous liking. His 
dingy old coat, than which scarce a private's in his command 
was more faded ; his dilapidated and discolored cap ; the ab- 
sence of decorations and all show in his dress ; his odd ways ; 
his kindly, simple manner ; his habit of sitting down and eating 
with his men; his indifference whether his bed were in a com- 
fortable headquarter tent, on a camp couch, or in a fence corner 
with no shelter from the rain but his cloak ; his abstemiousness, 
fairness, honesty, simplicity ; his never-fiiiling regard for the 
comfort and the feelings of the private soldier; his oddities, 
eccentricities, and originalities — all were an unfailing provocative 
to liking, and endeared him to his men. Troops are charmed 
when there is anything in the personal character of a great 
leader to "make fun of"— admiration of his genius then be- 
comes enthusiasm for his person. Jackson had aroused this 
enthusiasm in his men — and it was a weapon with which he 
struck hard. 



JACKSON. 53 

One of the most curious peculiarities of Jackson was tlie 
strange fashion he had of raising his right hand aloft and then 
letting it fall suddenly to his side. It is impossible, perhaps, to 
determine the meaning of this singular gesture. It is said that 
he had some physical ailment which he thus relieved ; others 
believed that at such moments he was praying. Either may be 
the fact. Certain it is that he often held his hand, sometimes 
both hands, thus aloft in battle, and that his lips were then seen 
to move, evidently in prayer. Not once, but many times, has 
the singular spectacle been presented of a Lieutenant-General 
commanding, sitting on his horse silently as his column moved 
before him — his hands raised to heaven, his eyes closed, his lips 
moving in prayer. At Chancellorsville, as he recognised the 
corpses of any of his old veterans, he would check his horse, 
raise his hands to heaven, and utter a prayer over the dead body. 

There were those who said that all this indicated a partial 
species of insanity — that Jackson's mind was not sound. Other 
stories are told of him which aim to show that his eccentricities 
amounted to craziness. Upon this point the philosophers and 
physiologists must decide. The present writer can only say that 
Jackson appeared to him to be an eminently rational, judicious, 
and sensible person in conversation ; and the world must deter- 
mine whether there was any " craze," any flaw or crack, or error, 
in the terribly logical processes of his brain as a fighter of 
armies. The old incredulity of Frederick will obtrude itself 
upon the mind. If Jackson was crazy, it is a pity he did not 
bite somebody, and inoculate them with a small amount of his 
insanity as a soldier. Unquestionably the most striking trait of 
Jackson as a leader was his unerring judgment and accuracy of 
calculation. The present writer believes himself to be familiar 
with every detail of his career, and does not recall one blunder. 
Kernstown was fought upon information furnished by General 
Ashby, a most accomplished and reliable partisan, which turned 
out to be inaccurate; but even in defeat Jackson there accom- 
plished the very important object of retaining a large Federal 
force in the Valley, which McClellan needed on the Chicka- 
hominy. For instances of the boldness, fertility, and originality 



54 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

of his conceptions, take the campaigns against General Pope, 
the surprise of Harper's Ferrj, the great flank attack at Chan- 
cellorsville, and the marvellous success of every step taken in 
the campaign of the Yallej. This is not the occasion for an 
analysis of these campaigns ; but it may be safely declared that 
they are magnificent illustrations of the mathematics of war; 
that the brain which conceived and executed designs so bold and 
splendid, must have possessed a sanity for all practical purposes 
difficult to dispute. 

* 
IV. 

Jackson's religious opinions are unknown to the present writer. 
He has been called a " fatalist." All sensible men are fatalists 
in one sense, in possessing a strong conviction that " what will 
be, will be." But men of deep piety like Jackson, are not Ori- 
ental in their views. Fate was a mere word with Jackson, with 
no meaning; his "star" was. Providence. Love for and trust 
in that Providence dwelt and beat in every vein and pulse of 
his nature. His whole soul was absorbed in his religion — as 
much as a merchant's is in his business, or a statesman's in pub- 
lic affairs. He believed that life "meant intensely, and meant 
good." To find its meaning was "his meat and drink." His 
religion was his life, and the real world a mere phantasmagoria. 
He seemed to have died rejoicing, preferring death to life. 
Strange madness ! This religious dreamer was tlie stern, prac- 
tical, mathematical calculator of chances; the obstinate, un- 
yielding fighter ; the most prosaic of realists in all the common- 
places of the dreadfully commonplace trade of war. 

The world knocks down many people with that cry of " eccen- 
tric," by which is really meant " insane." Any divergence from 
the conventional is an evidence of mental unsoundness. Jack- 
son was seen, once in Lexington, walking up and down in a 
heavy rain before the superintendent's quarters, waiting for the 
clock to strike ten before he delivered his report. He wore 
woollen clothes throughout the summer. He would never mail 
a letter which to reach its destination must travel on Sunday. 



JACKSON. 55 

All these things made him laughed at; and yet the good sense 
seems all on his side, the folly on that of the laughers. The In- 
stitute was a military school ; military obedience was the great 
important lesson to the student — rigid, unquestioning obedience. 
Jackson set them the example. He was ordered to hand in his 
report at ten, and did not feel himself at liberty to present it be- 
fore ten, in consequence of the rain. He was ordered to don a 
woollen uniform in the winter, and having received no order 
prescribing or permitting another, continued to wear it. He 
considered it wrong to travel or carry mails on Sunday, and 
would not take part in the commission of wrong. This appears 
logical, however eccentric. 

In truth, the great soldier was an altogether earnest man, with 
little genius for the trivial pursuits of life, or its more trivial 
processes of thought and opinion. His temper was matter-of- 
fact, his logic straightforward; "nonsense" could not live in 
his presence. The lighter graces were denied him, but not the 
abiding charm. He had no eye for the "flower of the peas," no 
palate for the bubble on the champagne of life ; but he was true, 
kind, brave, and simple. Life with him was a har'd, earnest 
struggle ; duty seems to have been his watchword. It is hard 
to find in his character any actual blot — he was so true and 
honest. 

Jackson has probably excited more admiration in Europe 
than any other personage in the late revolution. His opponents 
even are said to have acknowledged the purity of his motives — 
to have recognised the greatne:=;s of his character and the splen- 
dor of his achievements. This sentiment springs naturally from 
a review of his life. It is no part of my design to present a 
critical analysis of his military movements. This must sooner 
or later be done ; but at present the atmosphere is not clear of 
the battle-smoke, and figures are seen indistinctly. The time 
will come when the campaigns of Jackson will become the study 
of military men in the Old World and the New — the masterly ad- 
vances and retreats of the Valley ; the descent against McClel- 
lan; the expedition to Pope's rear, which terminated in the 
second battle of Manassas; and the great flank movement at 



56 WEAEING OF THE GRAY. 

Chancellorsville, which has made the tangled brakes of the 
Spotsylvania wilderness famous for ever. 

Under the grave exterior, the reserved demeanour, the old 
faded costume of the famous soldier, the penetrating student of 
human nature will discern " one of the immortals." In the man 
who holds aloft his hand in prayer while his veteran battalions 
move by steadily to the charge, it will not be difiEicult to fancy 
a reproduction of the stubborn Cromwell, sternest of Ironsides, 
going forth to conquer in the name of the Lord. In the man 
who led his broken lines back to the conflict, and charged in 
front of them on many fields, there was all the dash and im- 
petus of Eupert. The inscrutable decree of Providence struck 
down this great soldier in the prime of life and the bloom of his 
faculties. His career extended over but two years, and he lives 
only in memory. But history cannot avoid her landmarks ; the 
great proportions of Stonewall Jackson will sooner or later be 
delineated. 

The writer of these lines can only say how great this man 
appeared to him, and wait with patience for the picture which 
shall " denote him truly." 



III. 
HAMPTOK 



I. 

There was a gentleman of South Carolina, of high position and 
ample estate, who in 1861 came to take part in the war in 
Virginia, at the head of a " Legion " of six hundred infantry. 
Tliis body of men, it was said, he had equipped from his own 
purse ; as he had sent to England and purchased the artillery 
with which he was going to fight. 

The " Legion " was composed of brave stuff, and ofiicered by 
hard-fighting gentlemen — the flower indeed of the great South 
Carolina race ; a good stock'. It first took the field in earnest at 
the first battle of Manassas — as an independent organization, 
belonging neither to Beauregard's '' Army of the Potomac " nor 
to Johnston's "Army of the Shenandoah." But there it was, as 
though dropped from the clouds, on the morning of that fiery 
twenty-first of July, 1861, amid the corn-fields of Manassas. 
It made its mark without loss of time — stretching out to Vir- 
ginia that firm, brave hand of South Carolina. At ten o'clock 
in the morning, on this eventful day, the battle seemed lost to 
the Southerners. Evans was cut to pieces ; Bee shattered and 
driven back in utter defeat to the Henry-House hill ; between 
the victorious enemy and Beauregard's unprotected flank were 
interposed only the six hundred men of the " Legion " already 
up, and the two thousand six hundred and eleven muskets of 
Jackson not yet in position. The Legion occupied the War- 
ren ton road near the Stone House, where it met and sustained 
with stubborn front the torrent dashed against it. General 



58 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 



/ 



Keyes, with his division, attacked the six hundred from the 
direction of Eed- House ford, and his advance line was forced 
back by them, and compelled to take refuge beneath the bluffs 
near Stone bridge. The column of General Hunter, meanwhile, 
closed in on the left of the little band, enveloped their flank, 
and poured a destructive artillery fire along the line. To hold 
their ground further was impossible, and they slowly fell back ; 
but those precious moments had been secured. Jackson was in 
position; the Legion retreated, and formed upon liis right; the 
enemy's advance was checked ; and when the Southern line 
advanced in its turn, with wild cheers, piercing the Federal cen- 
tre, the South Carolinians fought shoulder to shoulder beside 
the Stonewall Brigade, and saw the Federal forces break in dis- 
order. When the sun set on this bloody and victorious field, 
the " Legion " had made a record among the most honourable in 
history. They had done more than their part in the hard struggle, 
and now saw the enemy in full retreat; but their leader did not 
witness that spectacle. Wade Hampton had been shot down in 
the final charge near the Henry House, and borne from the field, 
cheering on his men to the last, with that stubborn hardihood 
which he derived from his ancestral* blood. 

Such was the first appearance upon the great arena of a man 
who was destined to act a prominent part in the tragic drama of 
the war, and win for himself a distinguished name. At Manas- 
sas, there in the beginning of the struggle, as alwa3\s afterwards, 
he was the cool and fearless soldier. It was easily scon by those 
who watched Hampton " at work " that he fougut from a sense 
of duty, and not from passion, or to win renown. The war was 
a gala-day full of attraction and excitement to some ; with him 
it was hard work — not sought, but accepted. I am certain that 
he was not actuated by a thirst for military rank or renown. 
From those early days when all was gay and brilliant, to the 
latter years when the conflict had become so desperate and 
bloody, oppressing every heart, Hampton remained the same 
cool, unexcited soldier. He was foremost in every fight, and 
everywhere did more than his duty ; but evidently martial ambi- 
tion did not move him. Driven to take up arrns by his princi- 



HAMPTON". 59 

pies, he fought for those principles, not for fame. It followed 
him — he did not follow it ; and to contemplate the character and 
career of such a man is wholesome. 

His long and arduous career cannot here be narrated. A bare 
reference to some prominent points is all that can be given. 
Colonel Hampton, of the " Hampton Legion," soon became 
Brigadier-General Hampton, of the cavalry. The horsemen of 
the Gulf States serving in Virginia were placed under him, and 
the brigade became a portion of Stuart's command. It soon 
made its mark. Here are some of the landmarks in the stir- 
ring record. 

The hard and stubborn stand made at the Catoctin Mountain, 
when General Lee first invaded Maryland, and where Hampton 
charged and captured the Federal artillery posted in the suburbs 
of Frederick City ; the rear-guard work as the Southern column 
hastened on, pursued by McClellan, to Sharpsburg ; the stout 
fighting on the Confederate left there ; the raid around McClel- 
lan's army in October ; the obstinate fighting in front of the 
gaps of the Blue Ridge as Lee fell back in November to the line 
of the Rappahannock ; the expedition in dead of winter to the 
Occoquan ; the critical and desperate combat on the ninth of 
June, 1863, at Fleetwood Hill, near Brandy, where Hampton 
held the right, and Young, of Georgia, the brave of braves, went 
at the flanking column of the enemy with the sabre, never firing 
a shot, and swept them from the field ; the speedy advance, 
thereafter, from the Rapidan ; the close and bitter struggle when 
the enemy, with an overpowering force of infantry, cavalry, and 
artillery, about the twentieth of June, attacked the Southern 
cavalry near Middleburg, and forced them back step by step 
beyond Upperville, where in the last wild charge, when the 
Confederates were nearly broken, Hampton went in with the 
sabre at the head of his men and saved the command from 
destruction by his "do or die" fighting; the advance imme- 
diately into Pennsylvania, when the long, hard march, like the 
verses of Ariosto, was strewed all over with battles ; the stubborn 
attack at Hanovertown, where Hampton stood like a rock upon 
the hills above the place, and the never-ceasing or receding roar 



60 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

of bis artillery told us that on the right flank all was well ; the 
march thereafter to Carlisle, and back to Grettysburg ; the grand 
charge there, sabre to sabre, where Hampton was shot through 
the body, and nearly cut out of the saddle by a sabre blow upon 
the head, which almost proved fatal ; the hard conflicts of the 
Wilderness, when General Grant came over in May, 1864 ; the 
fio-htino" on the north bank of the Po, and on the left of the 
army at Spotsylvania Court-House ; the various campaigns 
against Sheridan, Kautz, Wilson, and the later cavalry leaders 
o^ the Federal side, when, Stuart having fallen, Hampton com- 
manded the whole Virginia cavalry ; the hot fights at Trevil- 
lian's, at Keanis, at Bellfield, in a hundred places, when, in 
those expiring hours of the great conflict, a species of fury 
seemed to possess both combatants, and Dinwiddle was the arena 
of a struggle, bitter, bloody, desperate beyond all expression ; 
then the fighting in the Carolinas on the old grounds of the 
Bdisto, the high hills of the Santee and Congaree, which in 1864 
and 1865 sent bulletins of battle as before ; then the last act of 
the tragedy, when Sherman came and Hampton's sabre gleamed 
in the glare of his own house at Columbia, and then was 
sheathed — such were some of the scenes amid which the tall 
form of this soldier moved, and his sword flashed. That stal- 
wart form had everywhere towered in the van. On the Rappa- 
hannock, the Rapidan, the Susquehanna, the Shenandoah, the 
Po, the North Anna, the James, the Rowanty, and Hatcher's 
Run— in Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania — Hampton had 
fought with the stubborn courage inherited from his Revolution- 
ary sires. Fighting lastly upon the soil of his native State, he 
felt no doubt as Marion and Sumter did, when Rawdon and 
Tarleton came and were met sabre to sabre. In the hot conflicts 
of 1865, Hampton met the new enemy as those jireux chevaliers 
with their great Virginia comrade, " Light-Horse Harry " Lee, 
had met the old in 1781. 

But the record of those stubborn fights must be left to another 
time and to abler hands. I pass to a few traits of the indi- 
vidual. 



HAMPTON. - 61 



II. 



Of this eminent soldier, I will say that, seeing him often in 
many of those perilous straits which reveal hard fibre or its 
absence, I always regarded him as a noble type of courage and 
manhood — a gentleman and soldier "to the finger nails." But 
that is not enough ; generalization and eulogy are unprofitable — 
truth and minute characterization are better. One personal 
anecdote of Caesar would be far more valuable than a hundred 
commonplaces — and that is true of others. It is not a " general 
idea " I am to give ; I would paint the portrait, if I can, of the 
actual man. The individuality of the great South Carolinian 
was very marked. You saw at a glance the race from which he 
sprang, and the traits of heart and brain which he brought to 
the hard contest. He was " whole in himself and due to none." 
Neither in physical nor mental conformation did he resemble 
Stuart, the ideal cavalier — Forrest, the rough-rider— or the rest. 
To compare him for an instant to the famous Stuart — the latter 
laughed, sang, and revelled in youth and enjoyment, Hampton 
smiled offcener than he laughed, never sang at all that I ever 
heard, and had the composed demeanour of a man of middle age. 
Stuart loved brilliant colours, gay scenes, and the sparkle of 
bright eyes, Hampton gave little thought to these things ; and 
his plain gray coat, worn, dingy, and faded, beside the great 
cavalier's gay "fighting jacket," shining with gold braid, defined 
the whole difference. I do not say that the dingy coat covered 
a stouter heart than the brilliant jacket — there never lived a 
more heroic soul than Stuart — but that in this was shown the 
individuality of each. The one — Stuart — was young, gay, a 
West Pointer, and splendid in his merriment, e/an, and abandon. 
The other, Hampton, a civilian approaching middle age, a 
planter, not a soldier by profession — a man who embarked in 
the arduous struggle -with the coolness of the statesman, rather 
than the ardor of the soldier. It was the planter, sword in hand, 
not the United States ofi&cer, that one saw in Hampton — the 
country gentleman who took up arms because his native soil was 



62 WEARING OF THE GRAY 

invaded, as the race of which he came had done in the past. 
That the plain phahter, without military education, became the 
eminent soldier, is an evidence that " the strain will show." 

Here is an outline of the South Carolinian as he appeared in 
July, 1862, when the cavalry were resting after the battles of the 
Chickahominy, and he often came to the old shady yard of 
Hanover Court-House, to talk with General Stuart under the 
trees there. What the eye saw in those days was a personage of 
tall stature and " distinguished " appearance. The face was 
browned by sun and wind, and half covered by dark side-whis- 
kers joining a long moustache of the same hue ; the chin bold, 
prominent, and bare. The eyes were brown, inclining to black, 
and very mild and friendly ; the voice low, sonorous, and with a 
certain accent of dignity and composure. The frame of the .sol- 
dier — straight, vigorous, and stalwart, but not too broad for grace 
— was encased in a plain gray sack coat of civilian cut, with the 
collar turned down ; cavalry boots, large and serviceable, with 
brass spurs; a brown felt hat, without star or feather; the rest of 
the dress plain gray. Imagine this stalwart figure with a heavy 
sabre buckled around the waist, and mounted upon a large and 
powerful animal of excellent blood and action, but wholly " un- 
showy," and a correct idea will be obtained of General Wade 
Hampton. Passing from the clothes to the man — what impressed 
all who saw him was the attractive union of dignity and simpli- 
cit}' in his bearing — a certain grave and simple courtesy which 
indicated the highest breeding. He was evidently an honest 
gentleman who disdained all pretence or artifice. It was plain 
that he thought nothing of personal decorations or military show, 
and never dreamed of " producing an impression " upon any one. 
This was revealed by that bearing fall of a proud modesty ; nei- 
ther stiff nor insinuating— simple. 

After being in his presence for ten minutes, you saw that he 
was a man for hard work, and not for display. That plain and 
unassuming manner, without pretension, affectation, or "official" 
coolness, was an index to the character of the individual. It is 
easy to tell a gentleman ; something betrays that character, as 
something betrays the pretender. Eefinement, good-breeding. 



HAMPTON". 63 

and fealty tbrough all, to honour, were here embodied. The 
General was as courteous to the humblest private soldier as to 
the Commander-in-Chief, and you could discover in him no trace 
whatever of that air of "condescension" and " patronage '^' 
which small persons, aiming to be great, sometimes adopt. It 
was the unforced courtesy of the gentleman, not the hollow 
politeness of the pretender to that title, which all saw in 
Hampton. He did not act at all, but lived his character. 
In his voice, in his bearing, in all that he said and did, the 
South Carolinian betrayed the man who is too proud not to be 
simple, natural, and unassuming. 

Upon this trait of manner, merely, I may seem to dwell too 
long. But it is not a trifle. I am trying to delineate a man of 
whom we Southerners are proud — and this rare grace was his. 
It reflected clearly the character of the individual — the noble 
pride, the true courtesy, and the high-bred honour of one who^ 
amid all the jarring strife of an excited epoch, would not suffer 
his serene equanimity of gentleman to be disturbed ; who aimed 
to do his dut}^ to his country, not rise above his associates ; who 
was no politer to the high than to the low, to the powerful than 
to the weak ; and who respected more the truth and courage 
beneath the tattered jacket than the stars and wreath on the 
braided coat. The result of this kindly feeling towards " men of 
low estate " was marked. An officer long associated with him 
said to me one day : " I do not believe there ever was a General 
more beloved by his whole command ; and he more than returns 
it. General Hampton has a real tendeimess, 1 do believe, for every 
soldier who has ever served under him." He was always doing 
the poorer members of his command some kindness. His hand 
was open like his heart. Many a brave fellow's family was kept 
from want by him ; and a hundred instances of this liberality are 
doubtless recorded in the grateful memories of the women and 
children whom he fought for, and fed too, in those dark days. 
This munificence was nowhere else recorded. The left hand 
knew not what the risrht hand did. 

A few words more upon his personal bearing. His composure 
upon trying occasions, as in every-day life, indicated a self poised 



64 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

and independent character. He rarely yielded to hearty mirth, 
but his smile was very friendly and attractive. You could see 
that he was a person of earnest feelings, and had a good heart. 
In camp he was a pleasant companion, and those who saw him 
daily became most attached to him. His staff were devoted to 
him. I remember the regret experienced by these brave gentlemen 
when Hampton's assignment to the command of all the cavalry 
separated them from him. The feeling which they then exhibited 
left no doubt of the entente cordiale between the njembers of the 
military family. General Hampton liked to laugh and talk with 
them around the camp fire ; to do them every kindness he could 
— but that was his weakness towards everybody — and to play 
chess, draughts, or other games, in the intervals of fighting or 
work. One of his passions was hunting. This amusement he 
pursued upon every occasion — over the fields of Spotsylvania, 
amid the woods of Dinwiddle, and on the rivers of South Carolina, 
His success was great. Ducks, partridges, squirrels, turkey, and 
deer, fell before his double-barrel in whatever country he pitched 
his tents. He knew all the old huntsmen of the regions in which 
he tarried, delighted to talk with such upon the noble science of 
venery, and was considered by these dangerous critics a thorough 
sportsman. They regarded him, it is*^aid, as a comrade not 
undistinguished; and sent him, in friendly recognition of his 
merit, presents of venison and other game, which was plentiful 
along the shores of the Rowanty, or in the backwoods of 
Dinwiddle. Hampton was holding the right of General Lee's 
line there, in supreme command of all the Virginia cavalry ; but 
it was not as a hunter of " bluebirds " — so we used to call our 
Northern friends — that they respected him most. It was as a 
deer hunter; and I have heard that, the hard-fighting cavalier 
relished very highly their good opinion of him in that character. 
It is singular that a love for hunting should so often characterize 
men of elegant scholarship and literary taste. The soldier and 
huntsman was also a poet, and General Stuart spoke in high 
praise of his writings. His prose style was forcible and excellent 
— in letters, reports, and all that he wrote. The admirably 
written address to the people of South Carolina, which was 



HAMPTON. 65 

recently published, ■will display the justice of this statement. 
That paper, like all that came from him, was compact, vigorous, 
lucid, " written in English," and everywhere betrayed the scholar 
no less than the patriot. It will live when a thousand octavos 
have disappeared. 

III. 

Such was Wade Hampton the man — a gentleman in every 
fibre of his being, Ifwas impossible to imagine anything coarse 
or profane in the action or utterance of the man. An oath never 
soiled his lips. " Do bring up that artillery ! " or some equiva- 
lent exclamation, was his nearest approach to irritation even. 
Such was the supreme control which this man of character, full 
of fire, force, and resolution, had over his passions. For, under 
that simplicity and kindly courtesy, was the largely-moulded 
nature of one ready to go to the death when honour called. In 
a single word, it was a powerful organization under complete 
control which the present writer seemed to recognise in Wade 
Hampton. Under that sweetness and dignity which made him 
conspicuous among the first gentlemen of his epoch, was the 
stubborn spirit of the born soldier. 

Little space is left to speak of him in his military character. 
I preferred to dwell upon Hampton the man, as he appeared to 
me ; for Hampton the General will find many historians. Some 
traits of the soldier, however, must not be omitted ; this character 
is too eminent to be drawn only in profile. On the field 
Hampton was noted for his coolness. This never left him. It 
might almost be called repose, so perfect was it. He was never 
an excitable man ; and as doubt and danger pressed heavier, his 
equanimity seemed to increase. You could see that this was 
truly a stubborn spirit. I do not think that anybody who knew 
him could even imagine Wade Hampton " flurried." His nerve 
was made of invincible stuff, and his entire absence of all 
excitability on the field was spoken of by his enemies as a fault. 
It was said that his coolness amounted to a defect in a cavalrj^ 
leader ; that he wanted the dash, rush, and impetus which this 

5 



66 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

brancli of the service demands. If there was any general truth 
in this criticism, there was none in particular instances. Hampton 
was sufficiently headlong when I saw him — was one of the most 
thoroughly successful commanders imaginable, and certainly 
seemed to have a natural turn for going in front of his column 
with a drawn sabre. What the French call elan is not, however, 
the greatest merit in a soldier. Behind the strong arm was the 
wary brain. Cool and collected resolution, a comprehensive 
survey of the whole field, and the most excellent dispositions for 
attack or defence — such were the merits of this soldier. I could 
never divest myself of the idea that as a corps commander of 
infantry he would have figured among the most eminent names 
of history. With an unclouded brain ; a coup d'ceil as clear as a 
ray of the sun ; invincible before danger ; never flurried, anxious, 
or despondent ; content to wait ; too wary ever to be surprised ; 
looking to great trials of strength, and to general results — the 
man possessing these traits of character was better fitted, I 
always thought, for the command of troops of all arms — infantry, 
caviilry, and artillery — than for one arm alone. But with that 
arm which he commanded — cavalry — what splendid results did 
he achieve. In how many perilous straits was his tall figure seen 
in front of the Southern horsemen, bidding them " come on," 
not " go on." He was not only the commander, but the sahreur 
too. Thousands will remember how his gallant figure led the 
charging column at Frederick Cit}^, at Upperville, at Gettysburg, 
at Trevillian's, and in a hundred other fights. Nothing more 
superb could be imagined than Hampton at such moments. 
There was no flurry in the man — but determined resolution. 
No doubt of the result apparently — no looking for an avenue of 
retreat. " Sabre to sabre I " misjht have been taken as the motto 
of his banner. In the " heady fight" he was everywhere seen, 
amid the clouds of smoke, the crashing shell, and the whistling 
balls, fighting like a private soldier, his long sword doing hard 
work in the melee^ and carving its way as did the trenchant 
weapons of the ancient knights. This spirit of the thorough 
cavalier in Hampton is worth dwelling on. Under the braid of 
the Major-General was the brave soul of the fearless soldier, the 



HAMPTON. 67 

" fighting man." It was not a merit in him or in others that 
thej gave np wealth, business, elegance, all the comforts, con- 
veniences, and serene enjoyments of life, to live hard and fight 
hard ; to endure heat, cold, hunger, thirst, exhaustion, and pain, 
without a murmur ; but it was a merit in this brave soldier and 
gentleman that he did more than his duty, met breast to breast 
in single combat tlie best swordsmen of the Federal army, 
counted his life as no more ,J;han a private soldier^s, and seemed 
to ask nothing better than to pour out his heart's blood for the 
cause in which he fonght. This personal heroism — and Hampton 
had it to a grand extent — attracts the admiration of troops. But 
there is something better — the power of brain and force of 
character which wins the confidence of the Commander-in-Chief. 
When that Commander-in-Chief is called Robert E. Lee, it is 
something to have secured his high regard and confidence. 
Hampton had won the res^iect of Lee, and by that " noblest 
Roman of them all " his great character and eminent services 
were fully recognised. These men seemed to understand each 
other, and to be inspired by the same sentiment — a love of their 
native land which never failed, and a willingness to spend and 
be spent to the last drop of their blood in the cause which they 
had espoused. During General Stuart's life, Hampton was 
second in command of the Virginia Cavalry ; but when that 
great cavalier fell, he took charge of the whole as ranking-oflicer. 
His first blow was that resolute night-attack on Sheridan's force at 
Mechanicsville, when the enemy were driven in the darkness 
from their camps, and sprang to horse only in time to avoid the 
sweeping sabres of the Southerners — giving up from that moment 
all further attempt to enter Richmond. Then came th^ long, 
hard, desperate fighting of the whole year 1864, and the spring of 
1865. At Trevillian's, Sheridan was driven back and Charlottes- 
ville saved ; on the Weldon railroad the Federal cavalry, under 
Kautz and Wilson, was nearly cut to pieces, and broke in disorder, 
leaving on the roads their wagons, cannons, ambulances, their 
dead men and horses ; near Bellfield the Federal column sent to 
destro}^ the railroad was encountered, stubbornly opposed, and 
driven back before they could burn the bridge at Hicksford ; at 



68 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

Burgess' Mill, near Petersburg, where General Grant made his 
first great blow with two corps of infantry, at the Southside 
railroad, Hampton met them in front and flank, fought them all 
an October day nearly, lost his brave son Preston, dead from a 
bullet on the field, but in conjunction with Mahone, that hardy 
fighter, sent the enemy in haste back to their works ; thus saving 
for the time the great war artery of the Southern army. Thence- 
forward,' until he was sent to South Carolina, Hampton held the 
right of Lee in the woods of Dinwiddle, guarding with his cavalry 
cordon the line of the Eowanty, and defying all comers. Stout, 
hardy, composed, smiling, ready to meet any attack — in those 
last days of the strange year 1864, he seemed to my eyes the 
heau ideal of a soldier. The man appeared to be as firm as a 
rock, as immovably rooted as one of the gigantic live-oaks of his 
native country. When I asked him one day if he expected to 
be attacked soon, he laughed and said : " No ; the enemy's cavalry 
are afraid to show their noses beyond their infantry." Nor did 
the Federal cavalry ever achieve any results in that region until 
the ten or fifteen thousand crack cavalry of General Sheridan 
came to ride over the two thousand men, on starved and broken- 
down horses, of General Fitz Lee, in April, 1865. 

From Virginia, in the dark winter of 1861:, Hampton was 
sent to oppose with his cavalry the advance of General Sherman, 
and the world knows how desperately he fought there on his 
natale solum. More than ever before it was sabre to sabre, and 
Hampton was still in front. When the enemy pressed on to 
Columbia h^ fell back, fighting from street to street, and so con- 
tinued fighting until the thunderbolt fell in South Carolina, as it 
had fallen in Virginia at Appomattox, and the struggle ended. 
The sword that Hampton sheathed that day was one which no 
soil of bad faith, cruelty, or dishonour had ever tainted. It was 
the blade of a brave and irreproachable chevalier, of a man who 
throughout the most desperate and embittered conflict of all his- 
tory had kept his ancestral name from every blot, and had 
proved himself upon a hundred battle-fields the worthy son of 
the " mighty men of old." 

Such, in rough outline, was this brave and kindlj' soldier and 



HAMPTON. 6JJ 

gentleman, as he passed before our eyes in Virginia, " working 
his work." Seeing him often, in camp, on the field, in' bright 
days, and when the sky was darkest, the present writer looked 
upon him as a noble spirit, the truthful representative of a great 
and vigorous race. Brave, just, kindly, courteous, with the ten- 
derness of a woman under that grave exterior ; devoted to his 
principles, for which he fought and would have died ; loving his 
native land with a love " passing the love of woman; " proud, 
but never haughty ; not so much condescending to men of low 
estate, as giving them — if they were soldiers — the warm right 
hand of fellowship; merciful, simple-minded; foremost in the 
fight, but nowhere to be seen in the antechamber of living man ; 
with a hand shut tight upon the sword-hilt, but open as day to 
" melting charity ; " counting his life as nothing at the call of 
honour ; contending with stubborn resolution for the faith that 
was in him ; never cast down, never wavering, never giving 
back until the torrent bore him away, but fighting to the last 
with that heroic courage, born in his blood, for the independence 
of his country. Such was Wade Hampton, of South Carolina. 
There are those, perhaps, who will malign him in these dark 
days, when no sun shines. But the light is yonder, behind the 
cloud and storm ; some day it will shine out, and a million rush- 
lights will not be able to extinguish it. There are others who 
will call him traitor, and look, perhaps, with pity and contempt 
upon this page which claims for him a noble place among the 
illustrious figures shining all along the coasts of history like 
beacon lights above the storm. Traitor let it be ; one hundred 
years ago there were many in the South, and they fought over 
the same ground. Had the old Revolution failed, those men 
would have lived for ever, as Hampton and his associates in the 
recent conflict will. " Surrender," written at the end of this 
great history, cannot mar its glory ; failure cannot blot its splen- 
dour. The name and fame of Hampton will endure as long as 
loyalty and courage are respected by the human race. 



IV. 
ASHBY. 



In the Yallej of Virginia, the glory of two men outshines 
that of all others ; two figures were tallest, best beloved, and to- 
day are most bitterly mourned. One was Jackson, the other 
Ashby. The world knows all about Jackson, but has little 
knowledge of Ashby. I was reading a stupid book the 
other day in which he was represented as a guerilla — almost as 
a robber and highwayman. Ashby a guerilla ! — that great, 
powerful, trained, and consummate fighter of infantry, cavalry, 
and artillery, in the hardest fought battles of the Valley cam- 
paign ! Ashby a robber and highwaj'man ! — that soul and perfect 
mirror of chivalry ! It is to drive away these mists of stupid or 
malignant scribblers that the present writer designs recording 
here the actual truth of Ashby's character and career. Apart 
from what he performed, he was a personage to whom attached 
and still attaches a never-dying interest. His career was all 
romance — it was as brief, splendid, and evanescent as a dream — 
but, after all, it was the man Turner Ashby who was the real 
attraction. It was the man whom the people of the Shenandoah 
Valley admire, rather than his glorious record. There was some- 
thing grander than the achievements of this soldier, and that was 
the soldier himself. 

Ashby first attracted attention in the spring of 1862, when 
Jackson made his great campaign in the Valley, crushing one 
after another Banks, Milroy, Shields, Fremont, and their asso- 
ciates. Among the brilliant figures, the hard fighters grouped 



ASHBY. 71 

around the man of Kernstown and Port Republic at that time, 
Ashby was perhaps the most notable and famous. As the great 
majority of my readers never saw the man, a personal outline 
of him here in the beginning may interest. Even on this 
.soil there are many thousands who never met that model cheva- 
lier and perfect type of manhood. He lives in all memories and 
hearts, but not in all eyes. 

What the men of Jackson saw at the head of the Valley 
cavalry in the spring of 1862, was a man rather below the mid- 
dle height, with an active and vigorous frame, clad in plain Con- 
federate gray. His brown felt hat was decorated with a black 
feather ; his uniform was almost without decorations : his cavalry 
boots, dusty or splashed witli mud, came to the knee ; and around 
his waist he wore a sash and plain leather belt, holding pistol 
and sabre. The face of this man of thirty or a little more, was 
noticeable. His complexion was as dark as that of an Arab ; 
his eyes of a deep rich brown, sparkled under well formed 
brows ; and two thirds of his face wa& covered by a huge black 
beard and moustache ; the latter curling at the ends, the former 
reaching to his breast. There was thus in the face of the 
cavalier something Moorish and brigandish ; but all idea of a 
melodramatic personage disappeared as you pressed his hand, 
looked into his eyes, and spoke to him. The brown eyes, which 
would flash superbly in battle, were the softest and most friendly 
imaginable; the voice, which could thrill his men as it rang like 
a clarion in the charge, was the perfection of mild courtesy. He 
was as simple and "friendly " as a child in all his words, move- 
ments, and the carriage of his person. You could see from his 
dress, his firm tread, his open and frank glance, that he was a 
thorough soldier— indeed he always " looked like work " — but 
under the soldier, as plainly was the gentleman. Such in his 
plain costume, with his simple manner and retiring modesty, 
was Ashby, whose name and fame, a brave comrade has truly 
said, will endure as long as the mountains and valleys which he 
defended. 



72 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 



11. 



The achievements of Ashby can be barely touched on here — 
history will set them in its purest gold. The pages of the splen- 
did record can only be glanced at now ; months of fighting 
must here be summed up and dismissed in a few sentences. 

To look back to his origin — that always counts for something 
— he was the son of a gentleman of Fauquier, and up to 1861 
was only known as a hard rider, a gay companion, and the 
kindest-hearted of friends. There was absolutely nothing in the 
youth's character, apparently, which could detach him from the 
great mass of mediocrities ; but under that laughing face, that 
simple, unassuming manner, was a soul of fire — the unbending 
spirit of the hero, and no less the genius of the bom master of 
the art of war. When the revolution broke out Ashby got in 
the saddle, and spent most of his time therein until he fell. It 
was at this time — on the threshold of the war — that I saw him 
first. I have described his person — his bearing was full of a 
charming courtesy. The low, sweet voice made you his friend 
before you knew it; and so modest and unassuming was his 
demeanour that a child would instinctively have sought his side 
and confided in him. The wonder of wonders to me, a few 
months afterwards, was that this unknown youth, with the sim- 
ple smile, and the retiring, almost shy demeanour, had become 
the right hand of Jackson, the terror of the enemy, and had 
fallen near the bloody ground of Port Republic, mourned by 
the whole nation of Virginia. 

Virginia was his first and last love. When he went to Har- 
per's Ferry in April, 1861, with his brother Richard's cavalry 
company, some one said : " Well, Ashby, what flag are we going 
to fight under— the Palmetto, or what ? " Ashby took ofi" his 
hat, and exhibited a small square of silk upon which was 
painted the Virginia shield — the Virgin trampling on the tyrant. 
"That is the flag /intend to fight under," was his reply; and 
he accorded it his paramount fealty to the last. Soon after this 
incident active service commenced on the Upper Potomac ; and 



ASHBY. 73 

an event occurred which changed Ashbj's whole character. 
His brother Eichard, while on a scout near Eomney, with a 
small detachment, was attacked by a strong party of the enemy, 
his command dispersed, and as he attempted to leap a " cattle- 
stop " in the railroad, his horse fell with him. The enemy 
rushed upon him, struck him cruelly with their sabres, and 
killed him before he could rise, Ashby came up at the moment, 
and with eight men charged them, killing many of them with 
his own hand. But his brother was dead — the man whom he 
had loved more than his own life ; and thereafter he seemed like 
another man. Richard Ashby was buried on the banks of the 
Potomac — his brother nearly fainted at the grave ; then he went 
back to his work. " Ashby is now a devoted man," said one 
who knew him ; and his career seemed to justify the words. 
He took command of his company, was soon promoted to the 
rank of a field officer, and from that moment he was on the track 
of the enemy day and night. Did private vengeance actuate 
the man, once so kind and sweet-tempered? I know not; but 
something from this time forward seemed to spur him on to 
unflagging exertion and ceaseless activity. Day and night he 
was in the saddle. Mounted upon his fleet white horse, he would 
often ride, in twenty-four hours, along seventy miles of front, 
inspecting his pickets, instructing his detachments, and watching 
the enemy's movements at every point. Here to-day, to-morrow 
he would be seen nearly a hundred miles distant. The lithe 
figure on the white horse " came and went like a dream," said 
one who knew him at that time. And when he appeared it was 
almost always the signal for an attack, a raid, or a " scout," in 
which blood would flow. 

In the spring of 1862, when Jackson fell back from Winches- 
ter, Ashby, then promoted to the rank of Colonel, commanded 
all his cavalry. He was already famous for his wonderful 
activity, his heroic courage, and that utter contempt for danger 
which was born in his blood. On the Potomac, near Shepherds- 
town, he had ridden to the top of a crest, swept by the hot fire 
of the enemy's sharpshooters near at hand ; and pacing slowly 
np and down on his milk-white horse, looked calmly over his 



7i WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

shoulder at his foes, who directed upon him a storm of bullets. 
He was now to give a proof more striking still of his fearless 
nerve. Jackson slowly retired from Winchester, the cavalry 
under Ashby bringing up the rear, with the enemy closely press- 
ing them. The long column defiled through the town, and 
Ashby remained the last, sitting his horse in the middle of Lou- 
doun street as the Federal forces poured in. The solitary horse- 
man, gazing at them with so much nonchalance, was plainly seen 
by the Federal officers, and two mounted men were detached to 
make a circuit by the back streets, and cut off his retreat. 
Ashby either did not see this manoeuvre, or paid no attention to 
it. He waited until the Federal column was nearly upon him, 
and had opened a hot fire — then he turned his horse, waved his 
hat around his head, and uttering a cheer of defiance, galloped 
off. All at once, as he galloped down the street, he saw before 
him the two cavalrymen sent to cut ofi!" and capture him. To a 
man like Ashby, inwardly chafing at being compelled to retreat, 
no sight could be more agreeable. Here was an opportunity to 
vent his spleen ; and charging the two mounted men, he was soon 
upon them. One fell with a bullet through his breast; and, 
coming opposite the other, Ashby seized him by the throat, 
dragged him from his saddle, and putting spur to his horse, bore 
him off. This scene, which some readers may set down for 
romance, was witnessed by hundreds both of the Confederate and 
the Federal army. 

During Jackson's retreat Ashby remained in command of the 
rear, fighting at every step with his cavalry and horse artillery, 
under Captain Chew. It was dangerous to press such a man. 
His sharp claws drew blood. As the little column retired sul- 
lenly up the valley, fighting off the heavy columns of General 
Banks, Ashby was in the saddle day and night, and his guns 
were never t-ilent. The infantry sank to sleep with that thunder 
in their ears, and the same sound was their reveille at dawn. 
Weary at last of a proceeding so unproductive. General Banks 
ceased the pursuit and fell back to Winchester, when Ashby 
pursued in his turn, and quickly sent intelligence to Jackson, 
which brought him back to Kernstown. The battle there fol- 



ASHBY. 75 

lowed, and Ashbj held the turnpike, pressing forward with 
invincible ardour, flanking the Federal forces, and nearly getting 
in their rear. When Jackson was forced to retire, he again held 
the rear; and continued in front of the enemy, eternally skir- 
mishing with them, until Jackson again advanced to attack 
General Banks at Strasburg and Winchester. It was on a bright 
May morning that Ashby, moving in front, struck the Federal 
column of cavalry in iransita north of Strasburg, and scattered 
them like a hurricane. Separated from his command, but burst- 
ing with an ardour which defied control, he charged, by himself, 
about five hundred Federal horsemen retreating in disorder, 
snatched a guidon from the hands of its bearer, and firing right 
and left into the column, summoned the men to surrender. 
Many did so, and the rest galloped on, followed by Ashby, to 
Winchester, where he threw the guidon, with a laugh, to a 
friend, who afterwards had jt hung up in the Library of the 
Capitol at Eichmond. 

III. 

The work of Ashby then began in earnest. The affair with 
General Banks was only a skirmish — the wars of the giants fol- 
lowed. 

Jackson, nearly hemmed in by bitter and determined foes, 
fell back to escape destruction, and on his track rushed the 
heavy columns of Shields and Fremont, which, closing in at 
Strasburg and Front Eoyal, were now hunting down the lion. 
It was then and there that Ashby won his fame as a cavalry 
officer, and attached to every foot of ground over which he 
fought some deathless tradition. The reader must look else- 
where for a record of those achievements. Space would fail me 
were I to touch with the pen's point the hundredth part of that 
splendid career. On every hill, in every valley, at every bridge, 
Ashby thundered and lightened with liis cavalry and artillery. 
Bitterest of the bitter was the cavalier in those moments ; a man 
sworn to hold his ground or die. He played with death, and 
dared it everywhere. From every hill came the roar of his guns 



76 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

and the sharp crack of his sharpshooters, but the music, much 
as he loved it — and he did love it with all his soul — was less 
sweet to him than the clash of sabres. It was in hand-to-hand 
fighting that he seemed to take the greatest pleasure. In front 
of his column, sweeping forward to the charge, Ashby was 
" happy." Coming to the Shenandoah near Newmarket, he 
remained behind with a few men to destroy the bridge, and here 
took place an event which may seem too trifling to be recorded, 
but which produced a notable effect upon the army. While 
retreating alone before a squadron of the enemy's cavalry in 
hot pursuit of him, his celebrated white horse was mortally 
wounded. Furious at this, Ashby cut the foremost of his assail- 
ants out of the saddle with his sabre, and safely reached his 
command ; but the noble charger was staggering under him, and 
bleeding to death. He dismounted, caressed for an instant, with- 
out speaking, the proud neck, and then turned away. The his- 
toric steed was led off to his death, his eyes glaring with rage it 
seemed at the enemy still; and Ashby returned to his work, 
hastening to meet the fatal bullet which in turn was to strike 
him. The death of the white horse who had passed unscathed 
through so many battles, preceded only by a few days that of 
his rider,' whom no ball had ever yet touched. It was on the 
4th or 5th of June, just before the battle of Cross Keys, that 
he ambuscaded and captured Sir Percy Wyndham, commander 
of Fremont's cavalry . advance. Sir Percy had publicly an- 
nounced his intention to "bag Ashby;" but unwarily advancing 
upon a small decoy in the road, he found himself suddenly 
attacked in flank and rear by Ashby in person'; and he and his 
squadron of sixty or seventy men were taken prisoners. That 
was the last cavah-y fight in which the great leader took part. 
His days were numbered — death had marked him. But to the 
last he was what he had always been, unresting, fiery, ever on 
the enemy's track ; and he died in harness. It was on the very 
same evening, I believe, that while commanding the rear-guard 
of Jackson, he formed the design of flanking and attacking 
the enemy's infantry, and sent to Jackson for troops. A brave 
associate. Colonel Bradley Johnson, described him at that mo- 



ASHBY. 77 

ment, when the bolt was about to fall : " He was riding at the 
head of the column with General Ewell, his black face in a blaze 
of enthusiasm. Every feature beamed with the joy of the sol- 
dier. He was gesticulating and pointing out the country and 
position to General Ewell. I could imagine what he was saying 
by the motions of his right arm. I pointed him out to my 
adjutant — 'Look at Ashby ! see how he is enjoying himself! ' " 
The moment bad come. With the infantrj^, two regiments sent 
him by Jackson, he made a rapid detour to the right, passed 
through a field of waving wheat, and approached a belt of woods 
upon which the golden sunshine of the calm June evening slept 
in mellow splendour. In the edge of this wood Colonel Kane, 
of the Pennsylvania "Bucktails," was drawn up, and soon the 
crash of musketry resounded from the bushes along a fence on 
the edge of the forest, where the enemy were posted. Ashby 
rushed to the assault with the fiery enthusiasm of his blood. 
Advancing at the head of the Fifty-eighth Virginia in front, 
while Colonel Johnson with the Marylanders attacked the enemy 
in flank, he had his horse shot under him, but sprang up, 
waving his sword, and shouting, "Virginians, charge!" These 
words were his last. From the enemy's line, now within fifty 
yards, came a storm of bullets ; one pierced his breast, and he 
fell at the very moment when the Bucktails broke, and were 
pursued by the victorious Southerners. Amid that triumphant 
shout the great soul of Ashby passed away. Almost before his 
men could raise him he was dead. He had fiillen as he wished 
to fall — leading a charge, in full war harness, fighting to the last. 
Placed on a horse in front of a cavalryman, his body was borne 
out of the wood, just as the last rays of sunset tipped with fire 
the foliage of the trees; and as the form of the dead chieftain 
was borne along the lines of infantry drawn up in column, 
exclamations broke forth, and the bosoms of men who had 
advanced without a tremor into the bloodiest gulfs of battle, 
were shaken by uncontrollable sobs. The dead man had become 
their btau-ideal o^ a soldier; his courage, fire, dash, and unshrink- 
ing nerve had won the hearts of these rough men.; and now 
when they read upon that pale face the stamp of the hand of 



78 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

death, a black pall seemed slowly to descend — the light of the 
June evening was a mockery. That sunset was the glory which 
fell on the soldier's brow as he passed away. Never did day 
light to his death a nobler spirit. 

ly. 

Mere animal courage is a common trait. It was not the chief 
glory of this remarkable man that he cared nothing for peril, 
daring it with an utter recklessness. Many private soldiers of 
whom the world never heard did as much. The supremely beau- 
tiful trait of Ashby was his modesty, his truth, his pure and 
knightly honour. His was a nature full of heroism, chivalry, and 
simplicity; he was not only a great soldier, but a chevalier, 
inspired by the ^nsca fides of the past. "I was with him," said 
a brave associate, " when the first blow was struck for the cause 
which we both had so much at heart, and was\with him in his 
last fight, always knowing him to be bej^ond all modern men in 
chivalry, as he was equal to any one in courage. He combined 
the virtues of Sir Philip Sidney with the dash of Murat. His 
fame will live in the valley of Virginia, outside of books, as 
lonsr as its hills and mountains shall endure." 

Never was truer comparison than that of Ashby to Murat and 
Sidney mingled ; but the splendid truth and modesty of the 
great English chevalier predominated in him. Tlie Virginian 
had the dash and fire of Murat in the charge, nor did the glit- 
tering Marshal at the head of the French cuirassiers perform 
greater deeds of daring. But the pure and spotless soul of 
Philip Sidney, that "mirror of chivalry," was the true antetype 
of Ashby's. Faith, honour, truth, modesty, a courtesy which 
never failed, a loyalty which nothing could affect — these were 
the great traits which made the young Virginian so beloved and 
honoured, giving him the noble place he held among the men of 
his epoch. No man lives who can remember a rude action of 
his; his spirit seemed to have been moulded to the perfect shape 
of antique courtesy; and nothing could change the pure gold 
of his nature. His fault as a soldier was a want of discipline ; 



ASHBY. 79 

and it has been said with truth that he resembled rather the 
chief huntsman of a hunting party than a general — mingling 
with his men in bivouac or around the camp fire, on a perfect 
equality. But what he wanted in discipline and military rigour 
he supplied by the enthusiasm which he aroused in the troops. 
They adored him, and rated him before all other leaders. His 
wish was their guide in all things; and upon the field they 
looked to him as their war-king. The flash of his sabre as it 
left the scabbard drove every hand to the hilt; the sight of his 
milk-white horse in front was their signal for " attention," and 
the low clear tones of Ashby's order, " Follow me ! " as he 
moved to the charge, had more effect upon his men than a hun- 
dred bugles. 

I pray my Northern reader who does me the honour to peruse 
this sketch, not to regard these sentences as the mere rhapsody 
of enthusiasm. They contain the truth of Ash b}'', and those 
who served with him will testify to the literal accuracy of the 
sketch. He was one of those men who appear only at long in- 
tervals — a veritable realization of the " hero " of popular fancy. 
The old days of knighthood seemed to live again as he moved 
before the eye ; the pure faith of the earlier years was repro- 
duced and illustrated in his character and career. The anecdotes 
which remain of his kindness, his courtesy, and warmth of 
heart, are trifles to those who knew him, and required no such 
proofs of his sweetness of temper and character. It is nothing 
to such that when the Northern ladies about to leave Winches- 
ter, came and said, "General Ashby, we have nothing contra- 
band about us — you can search our trunks and our persons ;" he 
replied, "The gentlemen of Virginia do not search ladies' trunks 
or their persons, madam." He made that reply because he was 
Ashby. For this man to have been rude, coarse, domineering, 
and insulting to unprotected ladies — as more than one Federal 
general at "Winchester was — that was simply impossible. He 
might have said, in the words of the old Ulysses, " They live 
their lives, I mine." 

Such was the private character, simple, beautiful, and "alto- 



80 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

getlier lovelj," of this man of fibre so hard and unshrinking ; 
of dash, nerve, obstinacy, and daring never excelled. Behind 
that sweet and friendly smile was the stubborn and reckless soul 
of the born fighter. Under those brown eyes, as mild and gen- 
tle as a girl's, was a brain of fire — a resolution of invincible 
strength which dared to combat every adversary, with whatever 
odds. His intellect, outside of his profession, was rather medi- 
ocre than otherwise, and he wrote so badly that few of his pro- 
ductions are worth preserving. But in the field he was a master 
mind. His eye for position was that of the born soldier ; and 
he was obliged to depend upon that native faculty, for he had 
never been to West Point or any other military school. They 
might have improved him — they could not have made him. 
God had given him the capacity to fight troops; and if the dic- 
tum of an humble writer, loving and admiring him alive, and 
now mourning him, be regarded as unreliable, take the words of 
Jackson. That cool, taciturn, and unexcitable soldier never 
gave praise which was undeserved. Jackson knew Ashby as 
well as one human being ever knew another; and after the fall 
of the cavalier he wrote of him, "As a partisan officer, I never 
knew his superior. His daring was proverbial, his powers of 
endurance almost incredible, his tone of character heroic, and 
his sagacit}^ almost intuitive in divining the purposes and move- 
ments of the enemy." The man who wrote these words — him- 
self daring, enduring, and heroic — had himself some sagacity in 
"divining the purposes and movements of the enemy," and 
could recognise that trait in others. 

The writer of this page had the honour to know the dead chief 
of the Valley cavalry — to hear the sweet accents of his friendly 
voice, and meet the friendly glance of the loyal eyes. It seems 
to him now, as he remembers Ashby, that the hand he touched 
was that of a veritable child of chivalry. Kever did taint of 
arrogance or vanity, of rudeness or discourtesy, touch that pure 
and beautiful spirit. This man of daring so proverbial, of pow- 
ers of endurance so incredible, of character so heroic, and of a 
sagacity so unfailing that it drew forth the praise of Jackson, 



ASHBY. 81 

was as simple as a child, and never seemed to dream that he had 
accomplished anything to make him famous. But famous he 
was, and is, and will be for ever. The bitter struggle in which 
he bore so noble a part has ended ; the great flag under which 
he fought is furled, and none are now so poor as to do it reve- 
rence. But in failure, defeat, and ruin, this great name survives ; 
the cloud is not so black that the pure star of Ashby's fame 
does not shine out in the darkness. In the memories and hearts 
of the people of the Valley his glory is as fresh to-day as when 
he fell, lie rises up in memory, as once before the actual eye — 
the cavalier on his milk-white steed, leading the wild charge, or 
slowly pacing up and down defiantly, with proud face turned 
over the shoulder, amid the bullets. Others may forget him — 
we of the Valley cannot. For us his noble smile still shines as 
it shone amid those glorious encounters of the days of Jackson, 
when from every hill-tbp he hurled defiance upon Banks and 
Fremont, and in every valley met the heavy columns of the 
Federal cavalry, sabre to sabre. He is dead, but still lives. 
That career — brief, fiery, crammed with glorious shocks, with 
desperate encounters — is a thing of the past, and Ashby has 
"passed like a dream away." But it is only the bodies of such 
men that die. All that is noble in them survives. What comes 
to the mind now when we pronounce the name of Ashby, is 
that pure devotion to truth and honour which shone in every 
act of his life ; that kind, good heart of his which made all love 
him ; that resolution which he early made, to spend the last 
drop of his blood for the cause in which he fought ; and the 
daring beyond all words, which drove him on to combat what- 
ever force was in his front. We are proud — leave us that at 
least — that this good knight came of the honest old Virginia 
blood. He tried to do his duty ; and counted toil, and danger, 
and hunger, and thirst, and exhaustion, as nothing. He died as 
he had lived, in harness, and fighting to the last. In an un- 
known skirmish, of which not even the name is preserved, the 
fatal bullet came ; the wave of death rolled over him, and the 
august figure disappeared. But that form is not lost in the'' 

6 



82 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

great gulf of forgotten things. Oblivion cannot hide it, nor 
time dim the splendour of the good knight's shield. The figure 
of Ashby, on his milk-white steed, his face in "a blaze of en- 
thusiasm," his drawn sword in his hand- -that figure will truly 
live in the memory and heart of the Virginian as long as the 
battlements of the Blue Ridge stand, and the Shenandoah flows. 



V. 
BEAUIIEGARD. 



I. 

The most uniformly fortunate General of the late war was 
Beauregard. So marked was this circumstance, and so regularly 
did victory perch upon his standard, that Daniel, the trenchant 
and hardy critic of tlie Examiner^ called him Beauregard Felix. 
Among the Romans that term signified happy, fortunate, favoured 
of the gods; and what is called "good luck" seemed to follow 
the Confederate leader to whom it was applied. Often he 
appeared to be outgeneralled, checkmated, and driven to the 
"last ditch," but ever some fortunate circumstance intervened to 
change the whole situation. More than once the fortune of war 
seemed to go against him, but he always retrieved the day by 
some surprising movement. In the very beginning of his career, 
at the first great battle of Manassas, when his left was about to 
be driven to hopeless rout, his good genius sent thither Evans 
and Jackson, those stubborn obstacles, and the battle which was 
nearly lost terminated in a victory. 

Of this famous soldier I propose to record some traits rather 
of a personal than a military character. As elsewhere in this 
series of sketches, the writer's aim will be to draw the outline of 
the man rather than the official. History will busy itself with 
that "official" phase; here it is rather the human being, as he 
lived and moved, and looked when "off duty,'' that I aim to 
present. The first great dramatic scene of the war, the attack 
on Sumter, the stubborn and victorious combat of Shiloh, the 
defence of Charleston against Gilmore, the assault upon Butler 



8-4 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

near Bermiula Hundred, and the mighty struggles at Petersburg, 
will not enter into this sketch at all. I beg to conduct the 
reader back to the summer of the year 1861, and to the plains 
of Manassas, where I first saw Beauregard. My object is to 
describe the personal traits and peculiarities of the great Creole 
as he then appeared to the Virginians, among whom he came for 
the first time. 

He superseded Bonham in command of the forces at Manassas 
about the first of June, 1861, and the South Carolinians said 
one day, " Old Bory's come ! " Soon the Virginia troops had an 
opportunity of seeing this " Old Bory," who seemed so popular 
with the Palmettese. He did not appear with any of the 
" pride, pomp, an<l circumstance of glorious war." No flag was 
unfurled before hiin ; no glittering stafl^ officers were seen gal- 
loping to and fro ; for some days the very presence of the man 
of Sumter was merely rumour. Then the troops began to take 
notice of a quiet-looking individual in an old blue uniform coat 
of the United States Army, almost undecorated, who, mounted 
on an unimposing animal not at all resembling a "war horse," 
moved about quite unattended, to inspect the works in process 
of construction, or select new sites for others. Often this solitary 
horseman of the reserved demeanour and unobtrusive air was 
seen motionless in the middle of the plains, gazing around him; 
or in clear relief against the sk}^, or looking toward Bull liun, 
he peopled the landscape doubtless with imaginary squadrons in 
hot conflict. Then another step was taken by the men in 
making acquaintance with the new commander. The silent 
horseman wx)uld pause as he passed by the camps, and speak to 
the sentinels — briefly but not stiffly. When they returned to 
their quarteis they told how General Beauregard had thus 
stopped upon his way, spoken with them familiarly as comrade 
to comrade, and returned their salute at parting, with his finger 
to the rim of his cap. Finally, the troops had " a good look at 
him." lie reviewed a fine re^^iment from Tennessee, and all 
eyes were fixed upon his soldierly figure with admiration — 
upon the lithe and sinewy form, the brunette face and sparkling 
black eyes, the erect head, the firm seat in the saddle, and the 



BEAUREGARD. • 85 

air of command. When this nervous figure passed at a rapid 
gallop along the line, the keen eyes peering from beneath the 
Zouave cap, the raw volunteers felt the presence of a soldier. 

The hard battle of Manassas followed, and as noon approached 
on that fiimous twenty-first of July, the Southern army seemed 
completely flanked — Beauregard outgeneralled. McDowell had 
turned the Confederate left, and, driving Evans, Bee, and Bartow 
before him, seized on the Henry-House hill, the key of the 
whole position. Beauregard was four miles off, awaiting an 
advance of his right wing and centre on the Federal rear at 
Centre ville, ordered hours before. The order miscarried, and 
the advance was not made ; at near two o'clock the troops were 
still within the lines of Bull Run, and on the extreme left 
nothing but the two thousand six hundred and eleven muskets of 
Jackson, with a few companies of Bee, was interposed between 
the Southern troops and destruction. About thirty thousand 
men under General Hunter were advancing upon about three 
thousand — and to this critical point Beauregard now went at a 
swift gallop, with General Johnston. The scene which followed 
was a splendid exhibition of personal magnetism. Bee's men 
were routed ; his ranks broken to pieces ; the battalions which 
had breasted the torrent had been shattered by the weight of the 
huge wave, and were now scarcely more than a crowd of fugi- 
tives. Johnston, with the fiery dash which lay perdu under 
his grave exterior, caught the colours of an Alabama regiment, 
calling on the men to follow him ; and Beauregard passed along 
the lines at full gallop, rall3'ing the men amid the teriific fire. 
If he is ever painted, it should be as he appeared that day ; 
eyes flaming, the sallow face in a blaze of enthusiasm, the drawn 
sword pointing to the enemy, as with a sonorous voice which 
rang above the firing, he summoned the men to stand for their 
firesides, and all they held dear upon earth. Beauregard was 
the superb leader at that moment, and the cheeks of the gray- 
haired soldier of to-day must flush sometimes as he recalls 
that death grapple in which the flash of his sword led the 
charge. 

When not thus filled with hot blood, the face of the great 



86 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

Creole, even amid the beat of battle, was composed, firm, set, and 
did not exhibit, save in a slight deepening of the dusky tint of 
the complexion, any unwonted feeling. The man was quiet, 
silent, and seemed to be waiting calmly. I never saw a smile 
upon his face until some months after the battle, when President 
Davis came to review the troops at Fairfax Court- House. That 
smile was caused by a little incident which may entertain some 
readers. The present writer was sent one day as aide-de-camp 
in waiting, to escort the wife and little son of General Stuart 
from the Court-IIouse to the nearest station on the Orange rail- 
road ; when, just as the ambulance reached a point midway 
between the two points, a company of cavalry made its appear- 
ance in front, and the officer commanding requested that the 
vehicle should draw out of the road to " make way for the 
President." This was done at once, and soon his Excellency, 
President Davis, appeared, riding between Stuart and Beaure- 
gard — the latter wearing his dress uniform with a Zouave cap, 
the crown of which was an intensely dazzling circle of scarlet, 
burning in the sunshine. As soon as young J. E. B. Stuart, a 
little gentleman who used to call himself General Stuart, Jr., 
saw his father, be stretched out his arms and exclaimed, " Papa, 
papa ! " in a tone so enthusiastic that it attracted attention, and 
General Stuart said, " This is my family, Mr. President." 
Whereupon Mr. Davis stopped, saluted the young lady, patted, 
the boy upon the head, and endeavoured to attract his attention, 
in which he failed however, as the boy's mind was absorbed in 
the effort to climb before his father. The scene made everybody 
laugh, from the grave President to the men of the escort, and 
among the rest General Beauregard. His laugh was pecu- 
liar; the eyes sparkled, the firm muscles slowly moved, and the 
white teeth came out with a quite startling effect under the 
heavy black moustache. When the cavalcade passed on he was 
still smiling. 

I pray the reader to pardon this long description of a smile. 
The strangest of all phenomena is the manner in which trifles, 
cling to the memory. 

One more personal recollection of Beauregard as I saw him — 



BEAUREGARD. 87 

not on review, neither at Manassas, Fairfax, or elsewhere ; a 
stiff official figure in front of the lines, but in private, and this 
time on the outpost. It was at " Camp Qui-Vive," the head- 
quarters of Stuart, beyond Centreville, and in December, 1861. 
He came to dine and ride out on the lines to inspect the cavalry 
pickets ; and it is not difficult to recall what manner of man he 
was — so striking was his appearance. He wore the uniform coat 
of an officer of the United States Army, dark blue with gilt 
buttons and a stiff collar. The closely buttoned garment dis- 
played his vigorous chest ; from the upper edge protruded a 
sharp, white, standing collar, and he wore the inseparable Zouave 
cap, with its straight rim projecting over the eyes. 

The face of the soldier speedily drew attention, however, from 
his dress. The countenance, with its broad brow, firm mouth, 
covered with a heavy black moustache, and protruding chin, full 
of courage and resolution, was that of a French Marshal of the 
Empire to the very life. The iron nerve of the man was indeli- 
bly stamped upon his features. It was impossible to doubt the 
fighting instincts of the individual with that muscular contour 
of face which seemed to defy opposition. The rest of the physi- 
ognomy was gaunt, hard, somewhat melancholy. In the com- 
plexion was observable the Southern Creole descent of the sol- 
dier ; it was brunette, sallow, and the sun and wind had made 
it resemble bronze. It had the dusky pallor, too, of care and 
watching — that bloodless hue which the pressure of heavy 
responsibilities produces in the human face. The position of an 
army leader is not a bed of roses, and the bloom of youth and 
health soon fades from the cheeks which are hollowed by the 
anxieties of command. Such was the appearance of the " Man 
of Sumter," but I have omitted the most striking feature of his 
face — the ej'es. Large, dark, melancholy, with the lids droop- 
ing and somewhat inflamed by long vigils — of a peculiar dreamy 
expression — those eyes impressed the beholder very strangely. 
It was the eye of the bloodhound with his fighting instincts 
asleep, but ready at any moment to be strung for action. It was 
impossible not to be impressed by this resemblance. Not that 
there was any ferocity or thirst for blood in that slumbrous 



88 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

glance ; but if ever "fight" was plain in any look — obstinate, 
pertinacious, hard "fight" — it was plain in Beauregard's. 

II. 

The outline here drawn of the General's appearance may pro- 
duce the impression that he was stiff, stern, and unsocial. Such 
was very far from the fact. On the contrary, the manner of the 
individual was eminently modest, courteous, and pleasing. This 
may seem to clash with the bloodhound illustration — but both 
were true. It would be difficult to imagine a finer air of grave 
politeness, or a more courtly simplicity than General Beaure- 
gard's. Of this the writer took especial note, for at that period 
a great many very foolish things were written and published in 
relation to the eminent soldier. It was said that he was frigid, 
moody, unsocial, rude, repulsing all advances to friendly con- 
verse with a military coolness amounting to discourtesy. Stray 
correspondents of the journals had drawn a curious figure and 
labelled it " Beauregard " — the figure of a sombre, mysterious, 
and melodramatic personage, prone to attitudinizing and play- 
ing the "distinguished warrior;" fond of wrapping his cloak 
around him, folding his arms, and turning his back when any 
one addressed him, as though &,bsorbed in some gigantic scheme 
upon which his mighty brain was working, in a region far above 
the dull, cold, ever3'-day earth ! Such was the Beauregard of 
many "intelligent correspondents" — play-actor turned soldier; 
a sort of Manfred in gray uniform ; and lo ! here before me was 
the real man. Instead" of a mock hero of tragedy stalking about 
and muttering, the General appeared to me to be a gentleman 
of great courtesy and simplicity, who asked nothing better than 
for some kind friend to amuse him and make him laugh. 

For the General laughed ; and when he did so, he, strangely 
enough, seemed to enjoy himself. Standing on the portico of 
the old house in which Stuart had established his quarters, or 
partaking of his dinner with mundane satisfaction, he appeared 
entirely oblivious that he was "Beauregard the Great Trage- 
dian," and joined in the conversation simply and naturally, 



losing no opportu' .j 
•muscles which had settleu 
lancholy from care and n' 
during the day upon the first l.. . 
one mentioned the report in many u. 
Beauregard, had continued to ride a horse u 
was carried off by a cannon-ball, the General's Liui 
and he chuckled in the most untragic manner. " My hui&L v^ras 
killed," he said, " but his head was not carried away. He was 
struck by a shell, which exploded at the moment when it passed 
under him. A splinter struck my boot, and another cut one 
of the arteries in the animal's body. The blood gushed out, and 
after going fifty yards he fell dead. I then mounted a prisoner's 
horse — there was a map of the country in the saddle pocket — 
and I remember it was a small dingy horse with a white face." 
Laughter followed the remembrance of the small dingy horse with 
the white face ; and when one of the compan}'- observed that 
"General Beauregard had done himself considerable credit in 
Missouri," meaning to have said "General Price," the General 
burst into a laugh which indicated decided enjoyment of the 
mistake. 

The incidents here recorded are not to be found in any of the 
regular histories ; and I doubt if any description will be found 
of the manner in which General Beauregard essayed to assist a 
young lady bearing a very famous name, to mount her horse. 
The lady in question was a very charming person, an intimate 
friend of General Stuart ; and as she was then upon a visit to 
the neighbourhood of Centreville, she was invited by the gay 
cavalier to dine with Beauregard, and afterwards ride out upon 

the lines under escort. A young aide was sent for Miss ; 

she duly arrived, and dined at the outpost headquarters, and 
then the moment came to set out for the lines. Before she had 
taken two steps toward her horse, General Beauregard was at 
her side, completely distancing the young Prince Polignac, that 
brave and smiling youth, afterwards Brigadier-General, but at 
this time serving upon Beauregard's staff". To see the grave 
commander assist the fair young lady to mount her horse was a 



^Oi. 



^ent enjoyment to 

^ing all tlie chivalric 

x)e Beauregards ; stoop- 

.espect; hollowing his band 

-^mg up to ascertain why she did 

^iier. Whether it was that the young 

oorous to make such use of that distin- 

, ^1 did not need his aid, I know not f she laughed, 

gracefully vaulted into her saddle, and mounting his own steed, 

the General gallantly took his place at her side. 

These things are recorded in place of the " important events " 
of Beauregard's career. A narrative of his military operations 
may be found in the " regular histories," and an estimate of his 
merits as a commander. Upon this latter point a diversity of 
opinion exists, owing to the tragic termination of the recent con- 
flict. The secret archives of the Confederate government were 
destroyed, or remain unpublished. Many questions thus remain 
unanswered. Was Beauregard fully aware of the enemy's move- 
ment against his left at Manassas, and did he disregard it, depend- 
ing on his great assault at Centreville ? Did he, or did he not, 
counsel an advance upon Washington after the battle — an 
advance which events now known show to have been perfectly 
practicable? Were his movements on Corinth, in the West, 
judicious? Were his operations at Petersburg in accordance 
with the views of the government? All these questions remain 
unanswered ; for the dispatches containing the solution of the 
whole were destroyed or are inaccessible to the world. One fact 
is unfortunately very well known — that there was " no love 
lost" between the celebrated soldier and the Confederate Execu- 
tive ; and by a portion of the Southern press little praise was 
accorded him. But he did not need it. The victor of Manassas 
and Shiloh, the man who clung to Sumter until it was a mass 
of blackened ruins, will be remembered when partisan rancour 
and injustice are forgotten. Fame knows her children, and her 
bugle sounds across the years. 

A notable trait in the personal character of Beauregard was 
his kindly honJiomie to the private soldier. In this he resembled 



BEAUREGARD. 91 

the officers of i^apoleon, not those of tlie Englisli Armj. He 
bad the French liabit of mingling with the men when not upon 
duty, sharing their pursuits, conversing with them, and lighting 
his cigar at their camp fires. From this sprang much of his per- 
sonal popularity, and he thus excited largely that sympathy 
which rendered him so acceptable to his troops. To a General, 
nothing is more important than this sympathy. It is a weapon 
with which the master soldier strikes his hardest blows, and 
often springs from apparent trifles. Napoleon became the idol 
of his troops as much by his personal bearing toward them as 
from his victories. He was the grand Napoleon — but he stopped 
to talk with the men by their fires: he called them "wes enfans:''^ 
he fixed his dark eyes with magnetic sj^mpathy upon the dying 
soldier who summoned his last remains of strength to half rise 
from the earth, extend his arms, and cry, "Ft'ye V Empereur I ''^ 
He took this personal interest in them — the interest of a com- 
rade — and no one else could rival him in their favour. 

Beauregard had certainly secured this personal popularity. 
He invariably exhibited the utmost kindness, compatible with 
discipline, toward his men, and they remained true to him — as 
the Federal troops did to McClellan — through all his reverses, 
giving him in return for his sympathy and fiamiliarity an im- 
mense amount of good feeling and regard. A trifling incident 
will illustrate this. A private soldier of the "Powhatan troop" 
• — a company of cavalry which served as the General's body- 
guard — one day entered Beauregard's apartment, and wishing 
to write a letter, seated himself, as he supposed, at the desk of 
one of the clerks for that purpose. Taking a sheet of paper and 
a pen which lay near, he commenced his letter, and w^as soon 
absorbed in it. While thus engaged, he heard a step behind 
him, turned his head, and saw General Beauregard enter, where- 
upon he suddenly rose in confusion — for all at once the truth 
flashed upon him that he was writing at the General's desk, on the 
GeneraVs paper, and tvith the GeneraVs pen ! Fearing a harsh 
rebuke for this act of military lese-majeste, the trooper stammered 
out an apology; but no storm came from the General. "Sit 
down and finish your letter my friend,'' he said, with a good- 



92 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

humoured smile; "you are very welcome, andean always come 
in here when you wish to write." It was trifles like this which 
made the announcement of his removal from the command of the 
Army of the Potomac run like an electric shock through the 
camps, which caused a great concourse of soldiers to follow him 
through Centreville and far upon his road, shouting "Good-by, 
General 1 "— " God bless you, General ! " 

To suppose that this brother-feeling of the soldier for his troops 
ever led him to relax in discipline, would be a great mistake. 
In official matters, and wherever " duty " was concerned, he was 
rigid and immovable, exacted from every man under him the 
strictest obedience, and was wholly inaccessible to any prayer 
which came in conflict with the good of the public service. 
When at Centreville, in the fall of 1861, he expected daily an 
advance of McClellan. One morning a cannoneer from one of 
the batteries came in person to ask for a leave of absence of ten 
days to see his dying mother. " I cannot grant any leave," was 
the reply. "Only for ten days. General," pleaded the soldier. 
"Not for ten hours!" replied Beauregard; and the interview 
terminated. Had the moment not been critical he would have 
given this private soldier the desired leave with the utmost 
readiness — as he would have commended and promoted him, for 
the display of skill or gallantry. 

That all-important point of rewarding merit in the private 
soldier was never neglected by Beauregard. An instance was 
the promotion of a young man in the Loudoun cavalry, whose 
conspicuous courage and efficiency in reconnoitring and car- 
rying orders at Manassas attracted his attention. At the close 
of the day the obscure private was summoned to headquarters 
and informed by Beauregard that he would henceforth rank as 
a captain of his staff. This gentleman was afterwards Colonel 
Henry E. Peyton, Inspector-General of the Army of Northern 
Virginia, one of the bravest and most accomplished officers in 
the service. 

A last incident relatins: to "Beaure<j:ard the Great Trasje- 
dian," who was supposed to be playing " Lara," " Manfred," or 
some other sombre and mysterious character at Manassas, in 



BEAUREGARD. 90 

those fill' away times. It may add an additional touch to the 
outh'ne I have aimed to draw. It was in the summer of 1861 
that some young ladies of Prince William prepared a hand- 
some nosegay for presentation to the General ; and as he had 
amongst liis clerks a gentleman of high culture, the nosegay 
was entrusted to him for delivery. He consented with reluc- 
tance. To present a bunch of flowers to the silent and abstracted 
commander, whose faculties were burdened by great cares 
and responsibilities, seemed an incongruity which strangely 
impressed the ambassador ; but there was the nosegay, there 
were the young ladies, there was his promise, and he nerved 
himself for tlie task. "Waiting until all intruders had left the 
General's presence, he timidly knocked at the door of his 
sanctum, was bidden in a grave voice to enter, and advanc- 
ing into the apartment, found opposite to him the imposing 
eye and " brow severe '' of. General Beauregard, who had never 
looked more stern. The spectacle very nearly disarmed the 
ambassador of his presence of mind ; but he determined to 
accomplish his errand in the best manner possible, and accord- 
ingly proceeded to address the solemn General in what the 
newspapers call a "neat little speech." Having finished, he 
presented the flowers, drew back respectfully, and nerved him- 
self for the result. That result surprisingly differed from his 
expectations. Beauregard cleared his throat, looked extremely 
confused, and stammering "Thank you! I am very much 
obliged ! " received tlie bouquet, blushing as he did so like a 
girl. Such was the tragedy-hero of those journalists of 1861. 

III. 

I have tried to draw an outline of the actual man, not to make 
a figure of the fancy ; to present an accurate likeness of General 
Beauregard as he appeared to us of Virginia in those first 
months of the war, not to drape the individual in historic robes, 
making him an actor or a myth. 

He was neither ; he was simply a great soldier, and a finished 
gentleman. Once in his presence, you would not be apt to deny 



94 WKAUING OF THE GRAY. 

his claim to both of these characters. The nervous figure ; the 
gaunt, French, fighting, brunette countenance, deeply bronzed 
by sun and wind — these were the marks of the soldier. The 
grave, high-bred politeness; the ready, courteous smile; the 
kindly and simple bearing, wholly free from affectation and as- 
sumption — these were the characteristics of the gentilhomme by 
birth and habit, by nature as by breeding. 

Ten minutes' conversation with the man convinced you that 
you stood in the presence of one of those men who mould 
events. The very flash of the dark eyes "dared you to forget." 

Nor will the South forget this brave and trusty soldier. His 
name is cut upon the marble of history in letters too deep to be 
effaced by the hand of Time, that terrible disintegrator. As 
long as the words "Manassas" and " Shi'.oh " strike a chord in 
the bosoms of men, the name "Beauregard" will also stir the 
pulses. Those mighty conflicts meet us in the early epoch of 
Uhe war, grim, bloody, and possessing a tragedy of their own. 
The soldier who fought those battles confronts us, too, with an 
individuality of mind and body which cannot be mistaken. 
Lee is the Virginian, Hood the Texan ; Beauregard is the mar- 
shal of Napoleon — or at least he looked thus in those early days 
when the soldiers of Virginia, gathering at Manassas, closely 
scanned the form and features of their new commander. 

From Virginia the great captain went to the West, where, as 
the world knows, he won new laurels ; and to the end he con- 
tinued to justify his title of "The Fortunate." That is only, 
however, another name for The Able, The Skilful, The Master 
of events — not by "luck," but by brains. Good-fortune is an 
angel who flies from the weak and fearful, but yields herself 
captive to the resolute soul who clutches her. If any doubted 
that Beauregard owed his great success to the deepest thought, 
the most exhausting brain-work, and those sleepless vigils which 
wear out the life, they had only to look upon him in his latter 
years to discover the truth. Care, meditation, watching — all 
the huge responsibility of an army leader — had stamped on the 
brow of the great Creole their unmistakable impress. The heavy 
moustache, which had once been as black as the raven's wing, 



BEAUREGARD. 95 

was now grizzled like the beard. In the hair, which before was 
dark, now shone those silver threads which toil and anxiety 
weave mercilessly in the locks of their victims. The mouth 
smiled still, but the muscles had assumed a grimmer tension. 
The eyes were still brilliant, but more deeply sunken and more 
slumbrous. In the broad brow, once so smooth, the iron hand 
of care had ploughed the inexorable furrows, 

Beauregard the youthful, daring, and impetuous soldier, had 
become Beauregard the cautious, thoughtful, self-sacrificing 
patriot — one of the great props of the mighty edifice then totter- 
ing beneath the heavy blows it was receiving in Virginia and 
the West. 

" The self-sacrificing patriot." If any one doubts his claim to 
that title, it will not be doubted w^hen events now buried in 
obscurity are known. Beauregard w^as superb when, in the midst 
of the dense smoke of Manassas, he shouted in his inspiring 
voice, *M salute the Eighth Georgia with my hat off ! History 
shall never forget you! " But he was greater still — more noble 
and more glorious — when after the battle of Corinth he said 
nothing. 

He was silent, and is silent still ; but history speaks for him, 
and will ever speak. He lives in the memories and the hearts 
of his old soldiers, as in the pages of our annals ; and those who 
followed his flag, who listened to his voice, need no page like 
this to bring his figure back, as it blazed before their eyes in the 
far away year '61. They remember him always, and salute him 
from their hearts — as does the writer of these lines. 

Wherever you may be, General — whether in Rome or New 
Orleans, in the Old World or the New — whether in sickness or 
in health, in joy or in sorrow — your old soldiers of the Army 
of Virginia remember you, and wish you long life, health, and 
happiness, from their heart of hearts. 



VL 
EARLY. 



In the Virginia Convention of 1860-61, when the great strug- 
gle for separation took place, and the hot war of tongues pre- 
ceded the desperate war of the ba3^onet, there was a gentleman 
of resolute courage and military experience who made himself 
prominent among the opponents of secession. Belonging to the 
old Whig party, and thinking apparently that the right moment 
had not yet come, this resolute soldier-politician fought the advo- 
cates of the ordinance with unyielding persistence, aiming by his 
hard-hitting argument, his kindling eloquence, and his parlia- 
mentary skill, to give to the action of the Convention that 
direction which his judgment approved. Many called him a 
" submissionist," because he opposed secession then ; but when 
the gauntlet was thrown down, this "Whig submissionist" put 
on a gray coat, took the field, and fought from the beginning to 
the very end of the war with a courage and persistence surpassed 
by no Southerner who took part in the conflict. When he was 
sent to invade Maryland, and afterwards was left by General 
Lee in command of that " forlorn hope," the little Valley army, 
if it could be called such, in the winter of 1864-5, he was 
selected for the work, because it required the brain and courage 
of the soldier of hard and stubborn fibre. Only since the ter- 
mination of the war has the world discovered the truth of that 
great campaign ; the desperate character of the situation which 
Early occupied, and the enormous odds against which he 
fought. 



EAELY. 97 

He entered upon the great arena almost unknown. He had 
served in the Mexican war, and had there displayed skill and 
courage ; but his position was a subordinate one, and he was 
better known as a politician than a soldier. In the field he 
made his mark at once. About four o'clock in the afternoon of 
the 21st of July, 1861, at Manassas, the Federal forces had been 
driven by the resolute assault of Jackson and his great asso- 
ciates from the Henry-House hill ; but a new and formidable 
line-of-battle was formed on the high ground beyond, near 
Dogan's house, and the swarming masses of Federal infantry 
were thrown forward for a last desperate charge. The object of 
the Federal commander was to outflank and envelop the Confe- 
derate left, and his right wing swayed forM^ard to accomplish 
that object, when all at once from the woods, which the enemy 
were aiming to gain, came a galling fire which staggered and 
drove them back. This fire was delivered by Kirby Smith and 
Early. So hot was it that it completely checked the Federal 
charge ; and as they wavered, the Southern lines pressed for- 
ward with wild cheers. The enemj^ were forced to give ground. 
Their ranks broke, and in thirty minutes the grand army was in 
full retreat across Bull Run. The "Whig Submissionist" had 
won his spurs in the first great battle of the war. From that time 
Early was in active service, and did hard work everywhere — in 
the Peninsula, where he was severely wounded in the hard strug- 
gle of Malvern Hill, and then as General Early, at Cedar Moun- 
tain, where he met and repulsed a vigorous advance of General 
Pope's left wing, in the very inception of the battle. If Early had 
given way there, Ewell's column on the high ground to his right 
would have been cut off from the main body ; but the ground 
was obstinately held, and victory followed. Advancing north- 
ward thereafter, Jackson threw two brigades across at Warren- 
ton Springs, under Early, and these resolutely held their ground 
in face of an overpowering force. Thenceforward Early con- 
tinued to add to his reputation as a hard fighter — at Bristoe, the 
second Manassas, Harper's Ferry, Sharpsburg, Fredericksburg, 
Gettysburg, Spottsylvania, Monocacy, and throughout the Val- 
ley campaign. During the invasion of Pennsylvania he led 



98 WEAEING OF THE GRAY. 

General Lee's advance, which reached the Susquehanna and cap- 
tured York. In Spottsylvania he commanded Hill's corps, and 
was in the desperate fighting at the time of the assault upon the 
famous ""Horseshoe," and repulsed an attack of Burnside's corps 
with heavy loss to his opponents. After that hard and bitter 
struggle the Federal commander gave up all hope of forcing 
General Lee's lines, and moving by the left flank reached Cold 
Harbour, where the obstinate struggle recommenced. It was 
at this moment, when almost overpowered by the great force 
arrayed against him, that General Lee received intelligence of 
the advance of General Hunter up the Valley with a considerable 
army ; and it was necessary to detach a commander of ability, 
vigour, and daring to meet that column. Early was selected, 
and the result is known. General Hunter advanced, in spite 
of opposition from the cavalry under General Jones, until he 
reached the vicinity of Lynchburg ; but here he came in colli- 
sion with his dangerous adversary, A complete defeat of the 
Federal forces followed, and Hunter's campaign was decided at 
one blow. He gave ground, retreated, and, with constantly 
accelerated speed, sought refuge in the western mountains, 
whence, with a decimated and disheartened army, he hastened 
towards the Ohio. The great advance up the Valley, from 
which, as his report shows. General Grant had expected so 
much, had thus completely failed. The campaign beginning 
with such high hopes, had terminated in ignominy and disaster. 
The inhabitants of the region, subjected by General Hunter to 
the most merciless treatment, saw their powerful oppressor in 
hopeless retreat ; and an advance which threatened to paralyse 
Lee, and by severing his communications, drive him from V^ir- 
ginia, had been completely defeated. Such was the first evi- 
dence given by General Early of his ability as a corps com- 
mander, operating without an immediate superior. 

He was destined to figure now, however, in scenes more strik- 
ing and "dramatic" still. General Grant, with about 150,000 
men, was pressing General Lee with about 50,000, and forcing 
him slowly back upon the Confederate capital. Every resource 
of the Confederacy was strained to meet this terrible assault — 



EARLY. 99 

the sinews almost broken in tlie effort. To divert reinforce- 
ments from General Grant was a matter of vital importance — a 
thing of life and death — and Jackson's Valley campaign in 1862 
had shown how this could be most effectually done. To menace 
the Federal capital was evidently the great secret: a moderate 
force would not probably be able to do more than divert troops 
from Grant ; but this was an object of the first importance, and 
much might be accomplished by a soldier of decision, energy, 
and rapidity of movement. Early had been selected for the 
work, with orders M'hen he left the lowland to " move to the 
Valley through Swift Run Gap or Brown's Gap, attack Hunter, 
and then cross the Potomac and threaten Washington." This 
critical task he now undertook with alacrity, and he accom- 
plished it with very great skill and success. 

Not a moment was lost in pushing his column toward 
Maryland ; and such was the rapidity of the march upon 
"Washington, -that the capital was placed in imminent danger. 
In spite of the prostrating heat, the troops made twenty 
miles a day, and the rumour of this determined advance 
came to the Federal authorities at the moment when Grant was 
supposed to be carrying everything before him. To meet the 
attack of their formidable adversar}'-, the authorities at Washing- 
ton sent to hurry forward the forces of General Hunter from the 
Ohio, and a considerable force from General Grant's army was 
dispatched up the bay to man the fortifications. Early had 
pressed on, crossed the Potomac, advanced to Frederick City, 
defeated General Wallace at the Monocacy, and was now in sight 
of the defences of Washington ; the crack of his skirmishers was 
heard at the "White House" and in the department buildings 
of the capital. The enormous march, however, had broken 
down and decimated his army. The five hundred miles of 
incessant advance, at twenty miles a day, left him only eight 
thousand infantry, about forty field-pieces, and two thousand 
badly mounted cavalry — at the moment detached against the 
railroads northward — with which to assault the powerful works, 
bristling with cannon, in his front. His position at this moment 
was certainly critical, and calculated to try the nerves of any but 

L.ofC. 



100 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

a resolute and daring soldier. lie was in the heart of the 
enemy's country, or at least in sight of their capital city ; in his 
front, according to Mr. Stanton, the Federal Secretary of War, 
was the Sixth and part of the Eighth and Nineteenth Corps, and 
General Hunter was hastening from the West to strike his rear 
and cut him off from his only avenue of retreat across the 
Potomac. It behoved the Confederate commander under these 
circumstances to look to his safety ; and he was reluctantly com- 
pelled to give up his intended assault upon the capital — to 
abandon the attempt to seize the rich prize apparently in his 
very grasp. Early, accordingly, broke up his camp, retreated, 
and, with little molestation, recrossed the Potomac, and stood at 
bay on the Opequon in the Shenandoah Valley. 

Such had been the result of the daring advance upon the 
Federal capital. The extent of the danger to which Washington 
was then exposed, still remains a matter of doubt and difference 
of opinion among the most intelligent persons. It will, no 
doubt, be accurately defined when the events of the recent strug- 
gle come to be closely investigated by the impartial historian of 
the future, and the truth is sifted from the error. To the world 
at large, the Federal capital seemed in no little danger on that 
July morning, when Early's lines were seen advancing to the 
attack. Northern writers state that, if the assault had been 
made on the day before, it would have resulted in the capture 
of the city. But however well or ill-founded this may be, it is 
safe to say that the primary object of the march had been 
acdo'mplished when Early retreated and posted himself in the 
Shenandoah Yalley — a standing threat to repeat his audacious 
enterprise. It was no longer a mere detached column that 
opposed him, but an army of about 50,000 men. To that extent 
General Grant had been weakened, and the heavy weight upon 
General Lee's shoulders lightened. 



II. 

f 
These events took place in the summer of 1864, and in the 
autumn of that year General Early fought his famous battles, 



EARLY. 101 

and — the world said — sustained his ignominious defeats in the 
Shenandoah Valley. "Ignominious" was the adjective which 
expressed the views of nine-tenths of the citizens outside of the 
immediate region, and probably of one-half the army of North- 
ern Virginia. In the eyes of the world there is a crime for 
which there is no palliation, and that is failure. There is a 
criminal to whom all defence is denied — it is the man who fails. 
No matter what the failure results from, there it is, and no 
explanations are " in order." Early was defeated in a pitched 
battle near Winchester, on the 19th of September, and the 
country, gloomy, despondent, embittered, and clamouring for 
a victory, broke out into curses almost at the man who had sus- 
tained this reverse. It was his bad generalship, they cried ; 
" the troops had no confidence in him ; " he was the poorest of 
soldiers, the veriest sham general — else why, with his splendid 
arniy^ did he allow a second or third-rate general like Sheridan 
to defeat him ? When the defeat at Fisher's Hill followed, and 
\}i\Q. fiasco at AVaynesboro' terminated the Valley campaign, peo- 
ple were convinced that General Jubal A. Early was a very 
great dunce in military matters, had been outgeneralled and 
outfought by an opponent little, if any, stronger than himself, 
and the M'hole campaign was stigmatized as a disgraceful series 
of blunders, ending in well-merited defeat and disaster. 

That was the popular clamour ; but it is safe to say that popu- 
lar clamour is essentially falsehood, because it is based upon 
passion aiid ignorance. The truth of that campaign is that 
Early was "leading a forlorn hope," and that he never fought 
less than four to one. At Fisher's Hill and Waynesboro', he 
fought about eight to one. It is not upon General Early's 
statements in his recent letter from Havana, that the present 
writer makes the above allegation, but upon the testimony of 
officers and citizens of the highest character who are unani- 
mous in their statement to the above effect. From the date 
of the battle of Winchester, or the Opequon, to the present 
time, it has been persistently declared by the fairest and best 
informed gentlemen of the surrounding region, who had excel- 
lent opportunities to discover the truth, that Early's force in 



102 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

that fight was about eight or ten thousand, and Sheridan's 
about forty or fifty thousand. General Early states upon his 
honour — and the world is apt to believe him — that his effective 
strength in this action was eight thousand five hundred mus- 
kets, three battalions of artillery, and less than three thousand 
cavalry. General Sheridan's force he makes, upon a close 
calculation, about thirty-five thousand muskets, one of his 
corps alone numbering, as captured documents showed, twelve 
thousand men — more than the whole Southern force, infantry, 
cavalry, and artillery. In the number of guns Sheridan, he 
says, was, " vastly superior " to him ; and official reports cap- 
tured showed the Federal cavalry "present for duty " two days 
before the battle, to have numbered ten thousand men."^ There 

* An interesting discussion has taken place in the journals of the day, in refer- 
ence to the forces of Early and Sheridan at the battle of the Opequon. The latter 
replied to Early's statement by charging him with falsifying history; and thia 
reply drew forth in turn statements from Southern officers — some sentences from 
which are quoted: 

"I know of my own personal knowledge," wrote an officer in the New Orleana 
Picayune, January 13, 1866, "that General Early's statement is correct, when he 
states that he had about eight thousand five hundred muskets in the second 
engagement with General Sheridan. I was a staff officer for four years in the 
army of Northern Virginia. 1 was a division staff officer. Second Army Corps, 
under General Early's command, from the time the Second Corps was detached 
from the Army of Northern Virginia, June 1864, to the time it was ordered to 
Petersburg, December, 1864. I was present at the battles of Winchester, Fisher's 
HiH, and Cedar Creek. I know from the official reports that I myself made, and 
from actual observation at reviews, drills, inspections in camp, and on the march, 
the effective strength of every brigade and division of infantry under General 
Early's command (of the cavalry and artillery I cannot speak so authoritatively), 
and I can therefore assert that in neither one of these actions above mentioned, 
did General Early carry nine thousand men (infantry) into the fight." 

" One who served on Early^s staff" writes in the New York Xews of February 
10, 1866: 

" The writer of this has in his possession the highest and most conchisive evi- 
dence of the truth of Early's statement of his infantry force ; and in fact without 
this proof, it could have been substantially established by the evidence here in 
Lynchburg of these facts, that fifteen trains of the Virginia and Alexandria Rail- 
road (no one train of a capacity of carrying five hundred men) brought the whole 
of the Second Corps of the Confederate Army under division commanders Gor- 
don, Rodes, and Ramseur to this place : that Breckenridge's division, then here, 
was only about two thousand men : and that these were all of the infantry car- 



EARLY. 103 

was thus a terrible disproportion between the Federal and 
Confederate forces. Greatly outnumbered in artillery ; with 
thirty-five thousand muskets opposed to his eight thousand five 

ried from this place by Early down the Valley after his chase of Hunter. It will 
thus be perceived that Early's estimate (eight thousand five hundred) was quite 
full so far ; and after the Winchester and Fisher's Hill engagements, his state- 
ment that Kershaw's division of two thousand seven hundred then added, did 
not exceed his previous losses, ought certainly not to be objected to by Sheridan, 
who assails Early's veracity with the assertion that he inflicted on him a loss of 
twenty-six thousand eight hundred and thirty-one men ! " 

The Richmond Times says: "Of General Early's actual force on the 19th of Sep- 
tember, 1864, the day of the battle of Winchester, his first defeat, we can give 
statistics nearly official, procured from an officer of rank who held a high com 
mand during the campaign, and who had every opportunity of knowing. Early's 
infantry consisted of 

Gordon's Division '. 2,000 

Ramseur's Division. , 2,000 

Rodes' Division 2,500 

Breckenridge's Division 1,800 

Total lufantry 8,300 

CAVALRY — FITZ LEE'S DIVISION. 

Wickham's Brigade 1,000 

Lomax's old Brigade 600 

LOMAX'S DIVISION. 

McCauseland's Brigade 800 

Johnson's Brigade tOO 

Imboden's Brigade 400 

Jackson's Brigade 300 

Total Cavalry 3,800 

ARTILLERY. 

Three BattaUons Light Artillery 40 guns. 

One BattaUon Horse ArtUlery 12 guns. 

Total guns 52 guns 

About one thousand artillerists. 

"This recapitulation embraces all the forces of Early's command. General 
Sheridan, according to official statements, had under his command over tliirty-five 
thousand muskets, eight thousand sabres, and a proportionate quantity of artil- 
lery." 

The force of Sheridan is not a matter of dispute: that of Early is defined with 
sufiBcient accuracy by the above statements from honourable officers. 



104 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

hundred ; and ten thousand excellently mounted and armed 
cavalry to his three thousand miserably mounted and equipped 
horsemen; Early occupied anything but a bed of roses in 
those days of September, when his little force so defiantly 
faced the powerful army opposed to it. 

Why he was not attacked and driven up the Yalley long 
before the 19th of September, will remain an interesting histo- 
rical problem. Nothing but the unceasing activity and auda- 
city of the Confederate commander appears to have retarded 
this consummation. General Hunter seems to have been para- 
lysed, or intimidated by the incessant movements of his wary 
opponent. From the period of Lis return to the Valley from 
Washington, Early had given his adversary no breathing 
spell. To-day he seemed retreating up the Valley ; on the 
next day he was in Maryland ; when he fell back and his 
adversary followed, a sudden and decisive blow at the head 
of the pursuing column threw the whole Federal programme 
into confusion ; and grim and defiant, Early faced General 
Hunter in line of battle, defying him to make an attack. 

It will be hard to establish the statement that in these move- 
ments, during the summer and autumn of 1861:, in the Shenan- 
doah Valley, Early did not carry out in the fullest degree the 
instructions received from General Lee, and accomplish admi- 
rably the objects for which he had been sent to that region. 
He was placed there as Jackson had been in 1863, to divert a 
portion of the Federal forces from the great arena of combat 
in the lowland. By his movements before and after the battle 
of Kernstown, Jackson, with about four thousand men, kept 
about twenty-five thousand of the enemy in the Valley. By 
his movements preceding the battle of Opequon, Early, with 
eight or ten thousand men, kept between forty and fifty thou- 
sand from General Meade's army at Petersburg. Tliat he 
could meet the Federal force in his front, in a fair pitched bat- 
tle, was not probably believed by liimself or by General Lee, 
His command was essentially what he calls it, a " forlorn hope " 
— the hope that it could cope with its opponents being truly 
forlorn. As long as that opponent was amused, retarded, or 



EARLY. 105 

kept at arm's length, all was well. When he advanced to 
attack in earnest, it was doubtless foreseen that the thirty or 
forty thousand bayonets would drive back the eight or nine 
thousand. That result followed on the 19th of September, 
when, Slieridan having superseded Hunter, the attack was 
made at the Opequon. And yet nothing is better established 
than the fact that up to the moment when he put his cavalry 
in motion against the Confederate left. General Sheridan had 
been virtually defeated. Every assault of his great force of 
infantry had been I'epulsed ; and nowhere does this more 
clearly appear than in an account of the action published in 
Harpers Magazine^ by a field officer, apparently of one of the 
Federal regiments. That account is fair, lucid, and records 
the precise truth, namely, that every advance of the Federal 
infantry was met and repulsed. Not until tlie ten thousand 
cavalry of General Sheridan advanced on the Martinsburg 
road, attained the Confederate rear, and charged them in flank 
and rear, was there the least wavering. It is true that from 
that moment the action was lost. Early's line gave way in 
confusion ; his artillery was fought to the muzzle of the guns, 
but could do nothing unsupported ; and that night the Confe- 
derate forces were in full retreat up the Valley. 

Such, divested of all gloss and rodomontade, was the battle 
on the Opequon. It was a clear and unmistakable defeat, but 
the reader has seen what produced it. Not want of general- 
ship in the Confederate commander. It is gross injustice to 
him to charge him with the responsibility of that reverse ; and 
no fair mind, North or South, will do so. He was defeated, 
because the force opposed to him was such as liis command 
could not compete with. By heroic fighting, the little band 
kept back the swarming forces of the enenjy, holding their 
ground with th.e nerve of veterans who had fought in a hun- 
dred battles; but when the numerous and excellently armed 
cavalry of the enemy thundered down upon their flank and 
rear, they gave up the struggle, and yielded the hard fought 
day. 

The second act of this exciting drama was played at Fisher's 



106 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

Hill, three days afterward. Sullenly retiring like a wounded 
wolf, who snarls and shows his teeth at every step. Early took 
up a position on the great range of hills above Strasburg, and 
waited to be attacked. His design was to repulse any assault, 
and at nightfall retire ; but the enemy's large numbers ena- 
bling them to turn his flank, they drove him from his position, 
and he was forced to fall back in disorder, with heavy loss. 
This result was charged upon the cavalry, but Early's small 
force could not defend the ground, and the Federals assuredly 
gained few laurels there. So heavy had been the blow struck 
by the great force of the enemy three days before, that it is 
wonderful how the Southern troops could make any stand 
at all. Early's loss in the battle of the Opequon, in killed, 
wounded, and " missing" — that terrible item in a defeated and 
retreating army — was so' great, that it is doubtful whether his 
army, when it stood at bay on Fisher's Hill, numbered four 
thousand muskets. Such, at least, is the statement of intelli- 
gent and veracious oflicerswho took part in the engagement. 
They are unanimous in declaring that it did not exceed that 
number. Sheridan's force they declare to have been overpow- 
ering, but the Southern troops could and did meet it when the 
attack was made in front. Not until the great force of the 
enemy enabled him to turn the left flank of Early and sweep 
right down his line of works, did the troops give way. Num- 
bers overcame everything. 

Early retreated up the Yalley, where he continued to pre- 
sent a defiant front to the powerful force of Sheridan, until the 
middle of October. On the 19th he was again at Cedar Creek, 
between Strasburg and Winchester, and had struck an almost 
mortal blow at General Sheridan. The Federal forces were 
surprised, attacked at the same moment in front and flank, 
and driven in complete rout from their camps. Unfortunately 
this great success did not eff'ect substantial results. The enemy, 
who largely outnumbered Early, especially in their excellent 
cavalry, re-formed their line under General Wright. Sheridan, 
who had just arrived, exerted himself to retrieve the bad for- 
tune of the day, and the Confederates were forced to retire in 



EARLY. 107 

their turn. General Early's account of tliis event is interesting : 
"I went into tliis fight," he says, "with eight thousand five 
hundred muskets, about forty pieces of artillery, and about 
twelve hundred cavalry, as the rest of my cavalry, which was 
guarding the Luray Yalley, did not get up in time, though 
ordered to move at the same time I moved to the attack. 
Sheridan's infantry had been recruited fully up to its strength 
at Winchester, and his cavalry numbered eight thousand seven 
hundred, as shown by the official reports captured. The main 
cause why the rout of his army in the morning was not com- 
plete, w^as the fact that my cavalry could not compete with his, 
and the latter, therefore, remained intact. He claimed all his 
own guns that had been captured in the morning, and after- 
ward recaptured, as so many guns captured from me, whereas 
I lost only twenty-three guns ; and the loss of these and the 
wagons which were taken, was mainly owing to the fact that 
a bridge, on a narrow part of the road between Cedar Creek 
and Fisher's Hill, broke down, and the guns and wagons, which 
latter were not numerous, could not be brought off. Pursuit 
•was not made to Mount Jackson, as stated by both Grant and 
Stanton, but my troops were halted for the night at Fisher's 
Hill, three miles from Cedar Creek, and the next day moved 
back to New Market, six miles from Mount Jackson, without 
any pursuit at all." 

Thus terminated the Valley campaign of 1864. In Novem- 
ber, Early again advanced nearly to Winchester, but his oflfer 
of battle was refused, and he went into winter quarters near 
Staupton, with the small and exhausted force which remained 
w^ith him, the second corps having been returned to General 
Lee. He had then only a handful of cavalry and a "corpo- 
ral's guard " of infantry. In February, 1865, wdien the days of 
the Confederacy were numbered and the end was near, he was 
to give the qitidnuncs and his enemies generally one more op- 
portunity of denouncing his bad generalship and utter unfit- 
ness for command. In those dark days, when hope was sink- 
ing and the public " pulse was low," every reverse enraged the 
people. The whole country was nervous, excited, irascible, 



103 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

exacting. The people would hear no explanations — they 
wanted victories. Such was the state of public sentiment 
when intelligence came from the mountains that Early's 
" army " had been again attacked, this time near Staunton, and 
owing to the excessively bad generalship of that officer, had 
sustained utter and ignominious defeat. How many thousands 
of men had thus been defeated was not exactly stated ; but 
the public said that it was an "army." It was one thousand 
infantry and about six pieces of artillery. This force was 
attacked by two divisions of cavalry, numbei'ing five thousand 
each — ten thousand in all. Early had not a mounted man, his 
entire cavalry force, with the rest of his artillery, having been 
Bent off to forage. By the great force of the enemy. Early 
was driven beyond the mountains, his command hopelessly 
defeated, and his name was everywhere covered with obloquy 
and insult. He said nothing, waiting witli the equanimity of 
a brave man for the moment which would enable him to justify 
himself. He has done it now ; and no manly heart will read 
his noble words without respect for this true patriot and fear- 
less soldier. " Obvious reasons of policy," he saj's, " prevented 
any publication of these facts during the war, and it will now 
be seen that I loas leading a forlorn hope all the time, and the peo- 
ple can appreciate the character of tlie victories won hy Sheridan 
over me.'''' 

But this is General Early's account of the campaign, it may 
be said. It is natural — some persons even now may say — that 
he should endeavour by "special pleading" to lift from his 
name the weight of obloquy, and strive to show that he was not 
deficient in military ability, in courage, skill, and energy. The 
objection is just; no man is an altogether fair witness in regard 
to his own character and actions. Somewhere, a fault will be 
palliated, a merit exaggerated. Fortunately for Early's fame — 
unfortunately for the theory of his enemies — a document of the 
most conclusive character exists, and with that paper in his hand, 
the brave soldier may fearlessly present himself before the bar 
of history. It is the letter of General Lee, to him, dated "March 
30, 1^65, three days before that "beginning of the end," the 



EARLY. 109 

evacuation of Petersburg. The clamour against Early had ac- 
complished the object of many of those who raised it. His 
ability was distrusted; he was regarded as unlit for command; 
" remove him ! " was the cry of the people. Here is General 
Lee's letter relieving him of his command. It would be an 
injustice to the good name of Early to suppress a line of it. 

"Hd. Qrs. C. S. Armies, March 30, 1865. 
*^ Lieut.- Gen. J. A. Early, Franklin C. H., Va. : 

" Dear Sir : My telegram will have informed you that I deem 
a change of commanders in your department necessary, but it is 
due to your zealous and patriotic services that I should explain 
the reasons that prompted my action. The situation of affairs 
is such that we can neglect no means calculated to develop the 
resources we possess to the greatest extent, and make them as 
efficient as possible. To this end it is essential that we should 
have the cheerful and hearty support of the people and the full 
confidence of the soldiers, without which our effbrts would be 
embarrassed, and our means of resistance weakened. I have 
reluctantly arrived at the conclusion that you cannot command 
the united and willing co-operation which is so essential to suc- 
cess. Your reverses in the Valley, of which the public and the 
army judge chiefly by the results, have, I fear, impaired your 
influence both with the people and the soldiers, and would add 
greatly to the difficulties which will, under any circumstances, 
attend our military operations in S. W. Va. While my own 
confidence in your ability, zeal, and devotion to the cause, is un- 
impaired, I have nevertheless felt that I could not oppose what 
seems to be the current of opinion, without injustice to your 
reputation and injury to the service. I therefore felt constrained 
to endeavour to find a commander who would be more likely to 
develop the strength o^nd resources of the country and inspire 
the soldiers with confidence, and to accomplish this purpose, 
thought it proper to yield my own opinion, and defer to that of 
those to whom alone we can look for support. I am sure that 
you will understand and appreciate my motives, and that no one 
will be more ready than yourself to acquiesce in any measure 



110 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

which the interests of the country may seem to require, regard- 
less of all personal considerations. Thanking you for the fidelity 
and energy with which you have always supported my efforts, 
and for the courage and devotion you have ever manifested in 
the service of the country, I am, very respectfully and truly, 
your obedient servant, " E. E. LEE, General." 

In defeat, poverty, and exile, this recognition of his merit re- 
mains to that brave soldier ; and it is enough. There is some- 
thing better than the applauses of the multitude — something 
which will outweigh in history the clamour of the ignorant or 
the hostile ; it is this testimony of Eobert E. Lee to the " zeal- 
ous and patriotic services " of the man to whom it refers ; to the 
"ability, zeal, devotion, fidelity, energy, and courage" which he 
had " ever manifested in the service of the country," leaving the 
" confidence " of the Commander-in-Chief in him " unimpaired." 



III. 

In concluding this sketch, an attempt will be made to give the 
reader some idea of the personal character and appearance of the 
brave man who, in his letter from Havana, has made that calm 
and decorous appeal to posterity. 

General Ea^rly, during the war, appeared to be a person of 
middle age ; was nearly six feet in height ; and, in spite of severe 
attacks of rheumatism, could undergo great fatigue. His hair 
was dark and thin, his eyes bright, his smile ready and expres- 
sive, though somewhat sarcastic. His dress was plain gray, 
with few decorations. Long exposure had made his old coat 
quite dingy. A wide-brimmed hat overshadowed his sparkling 
eyes and forehead, browned by sun and wind. In those s^iark- 
ling eyes could be read the resolute character of the man, as in 
his smile was seen the evidence of that dry, trenchant, often 
mordant humour, for which he was famous. 

The keen glance drove home the wit or humour, and every 
one who ventured upon word-combats v/ith Lieutenant-General 



EARLY. Ill 

Early sustained " a palpable hit." About some of his utterances 
there was a grim effectiveness which it would be hard to excel. 
There was a member of the Virginia Convention who had called 
him a " submissionist " in that body, but when the war com- 
menced, hired a substitute, and remained at home, though 
healthy and only forty. Early the "submissionist" went into 
the army, fought hard, and then one day in 1862 met his quon- 
dam critic, who said to him, " It was very hard to get you to go 
oi<^ "---alluding to Early's course in the Convention on secession. 
Early's eye flashed, his lip curled. " Yes," he replied, looking 
at the black broadcloth of his companion, " but it is a d — d sight 
harder to get you up to the fighting." There was another member 
of the Convention who had often criticised him, and dwelt upon 
the importance of " maintaining our rights in the territories at all 
hazards." This gentleman, being aged, did not go into the army ; 
and one day when Early met him, during the retreat from 
Manassas, the General said, with his customary wit, "Well, 

Mr. M , what do you think about getting our rights in the 

territories now ? It looks like we were going to lose some of 
our own territory, don't it?" When General Lee's surrender 
was announced to him, while lying nearly dead in his ambulance, 
he muttered to his surgeon, " Doctor, I wish there was powder 
enough in the centre of the earth to blow it to atoms. I would 
apply the torch with the greatest pleasure. If Gabriel -ever 
means to blow his horn, now is the time for him to do it — no 
more joyful sound could fall on my ears." 

These hits he evidently enjoyed, and he delivered them with the 
coolness of a swordsman making a mortal lunge. In fact, every- 
thing about General Early was bold, straightforward, masculine, 
and incisive. Combativeness was one of his great traits. 

There were many persons in and out of the army who doubted 
the soundness of his judgment; there were none who ever 
called in question the tough fibre of his courage. He was uni- 
versally recognised in the Army of Northern Virginia as one 
of the hardest fighters of the struggle; and every confidence 
was felt in him as a combatant, even by his personal enemies. 
This repute he had won on many fields, from the first Manassas 



112 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

to Winchester; for one of the hardest fights of the war, if it 
was a defeat, was that affair on the Opequon. 

It was not so much good judgment that General Early wanted 
in his Valh^y campaign, as troops. He was "leading a forlorn 
hope," and forlorn hopes rarely succeed. "He has done as well 
as any one could," General Lee is reported to have said ; and the 
Commander-in-Chief had better opportunities of forming a cor- 
rect opinion than others. 

Eeturning to Early the man, what most impressed those who 
were thrown with him, was that satirical, sometimes cynical 
humour, and the force and vigour of his conversation. His 
voice was not pleasing, but his " talk " was excellent. His 
intellect was evidently strong, combative, aggressive in all do- 
mains of thought; his utterance direct, hard-hitting, and telling. 
He was a forcible speaker ; had been successful at the bar ; 
and in the array, as in civil life, made his way by the 
independent force of his mind and character — by his strong will, 
sustained energy, and the native vigour of his faculties. Sar- 
castic and critical, he was criticised in return, as a man of rough 
address, irascible temperament, and as wholly careless whom he 
offended. So said his enem.ies--those who called in question 
his brains and judgment. What they could not call in ques- 
tion, however, was his " zeal, fidelity, and devotion," or they will 
not .do so to-day. Robert E. Lee has borne his supreme and 
lasting testimony upon that subject, and the brave and hardy 
soldier who led that forlorn hope in the Shenandoah Yalley, 
when the hours of a great conflict were numbered, and dark- 
ness began to settle like a pall upon the land illustrated by such 
heroic struggles, by victories so splendid — the brave and hardy 
Early at Jast "has justice done him, and can claim for himself 
that, when the day was darkest, when all hearts desponded, he 
was zealous, faithful, devoted. If the world is not convinced by 
the testimony of Lee, that this man was devoted to his country, 
and true as steel to the flag under which he fought — true to it in 
disaster and defeat as in success and victory — let them read the 
letter of the exile, signing himself "J. A. Early, Lieut.-Gen. 
C. S. A." 



VII. 
MOSBY. 



I. 

I was reading the other day a work entitled " Jack Mosby, 

the Guerilla," by a certain "Lieutenant-Colonel ," of the 

United States Army. The book is exceedingly sanguinary. 
Colonel Mosby is therein represented as a tall, powerful, black- 
bearded, cruel, and remorseless brigand of the Fra Diavolo order, 
whose chief amusement was to hang up Federal soldiers by their 
arms, and kindle fires under their feet — for what reason is not ex- 
plained ; and when not thus pleasantly engaged, he is described 
as cutting down the unfortunate bluecoats with a tremendous 
sabre, or riddling them with bullets from an extensive assortment 
of pistols in his belt. He has a sweetheart — for " Lieutenant- 
Colonel " enters into his hero's most private affairs — who 

makes love to Union officers, and leads them into the toils of the 
remorseless Mosby. That individual exclaims in moments of 
excitement, " Confusion ! " after the universal fashion of Con- 
federate States officers in the late war; and in order to make the 
history of his life a full and comprehensive one, the minutest 
particulars are given of his well known schemd' to burn the city 
of New York — a brilliant idea, exclusively belonging to this 
celebrated bandit, who is vividly represented in a cheap wood- 
cut as pouring liquid phosphorus on his bed at the Astor 
House. This biographiciil work is " profusely illustrated," beau- 
tifully bound in a yellow paper cover, and the price is " only 
ten cents." 

It may be said that this is, after all, a species of literature, " so- 



il4 "WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

called," such as no person of character or intelligence ever reads. 

Such is doubtless ttie truth in regard to Lieutenant-Colonel 's 

silly performance; but is it equally certain that there are no 
citizens of the Northern States, both fair-minded and cultivated, 
who regard Colonel Mosby in some such light as that in which 
he is here represented ? I am afraid the number is considerable. 
He has been so persistently described as a desperado, such as 
infests the outskirts of civilization, that some impression must 
have been made by his traducers. Dr. Johnson said that almost 
anything could be accomplished by incessantly talking about it ; 
and so many people have reiterated these charges against Colonel 
Mosby, that a belief in them has, beyond any doubt, fixed itself 
upon the minds of many fair and candid persons. It is for this 
class, whose good opinion is worth something, that I propose to 
state the truth in relation to his character and career. Though 
in no manner attached to his command, the present writer occu- 
pied a position during the late war which enabled him to watch 
this officer's operations from the commencement almost to the 
end of the struggle; and what is here set down in relation to 
him may be relied upon as an honest statement by one who has 
no object in the world in making it except to record the truth. 

Without further preface, it may surprise some of my North- 
ern readers to hear that this man, figuring in the popular eye as 
a ruflian and low adventurer, was born and bred, and is in 
character and manners, a gentleman. His family is one of 
standing and intelligence in Virginia, and he was educated at 
the University of Virginia, where he studied law. He com- 
menced the practice, married, and would probably have passed 
through life as a "county court lawyer " had not the war taken 
place. When Virginia seceded he imitated other young men, 
and embarked in the struggle as a private in a regiment of 
cavalry. Here he exhibited courage and activity, and eventu- 
ally became first-lieutenant and adjutant. When the miserable 
" reorganization " system of the Confederate States government 
went into operation in the spring of 1862, and the men w^ere 
allowed to select their officers, Mosby — never an easy or indul- 
gent officer — was thrown out, and again became a private. He 



MOSBY. 115 

returned to the ranks ; but his energy and activity had been 
frequently exhibited, and General Stuart, who possessed a 
remarkable talent for discovering conspicuous military merit of 
any sort in obscure persons, speedily sent for him, and from that 
time employed him as a scout or partisan. It is proper to warn 
the reader here that a scout is not a spy. Mosby's duty was to 
penetrate the region of country occupied by the Federal forces, 
either alone or in command of a small detachment of cavalry ; 
and by hovering in the woods around the Union camps, interro- 
gating citizens, or capturing pickets or stragglers, acquire infor- 
mation of the enemy's numbers, position, or designs. If this 
information could be obtained without a collision, all the better; 
but, if necessary, it was the duty and the habit of the Scouts to 
attack, or when attacked, hold their ground as long as possible. 
In other words, there was inaugurated in the country occupied 
by the Federal forces a regular system of partisan warfare, the 
object of which was to harass the invading force, and in every 
way impair its efficienc}^ 

It was at this time that I first saw Mosby, and his appearance 
was wholly undistinguished. He was thin, wiry, and I should 
say about five feet nine or ten inches in height. A slight stoop 
in the neck was not ungraceful. The chin was carried well 
forward ; the lips were thin and wore a somewhat satirical smile ; 
the eyes, under the brown felt hat, were keen, sparkling, and 
roved curiously from side to side. He wore a gray uniform, 
with no arms but two revolvers in his belt ; the sabre was no 
favourite with him. His voice was low, and a smile was often 
on his lips. He rarely sat still ten minutes. Such was his 
appearance at that time. No one would have been struck with 
anything noticeable in him except the eyes These flashed at 
times in a way which might have induced the opinion that there 
was something in the man, if it only had an opportunity to 
" come out." 

I am not aware that he gained any reputation in the campaign 
of 1862. He was considered, however, by General Stuart an 
excellent scout and partisan ; and the General once related to the 
present writer with great glee, the manner in which Mosby had 



/ 



116 WEAEING OF THE GRAY. 

taken nine men, deployed them over several hundred yards, and 
advanced, firing steadily upon a whole brigade of Federal 
cavalry, which hastily retired under the impression that the 
attacking force was heavy. Such things were common with 
Mosby, who seemed to enjoy them greatly ; but in the spring 
of 1862 the tables were turned upon the partisan. General 
Stuart sent him from the Chickahominy to carry a confidential 
message to General Jackson, then in the Yalley. He was rest- 
ing at one of the wayside stations on the Central Eailroad while 
his horse was feeding, when a detachment of Federal cavalry sur- 
prised and captured him — making prize also of a private note 
from Stuart to Jackson, and a copy of Napoleon's "Maxims" 
accompanying it. Mosby was carried to the Old Capitol, but 
was soon exchanged ; and chancing to discover on his route 
down the bay that General Burnside was going soon to reinforce 
General Pope in Culpeper, he hastened on his arrival with 
that important information to General Lee, who telegraphed it, 
do'ubtless, to General Jackson at Gordonsville, It is probable 
that the battle of Cedar Eun, where General Pope was defeated, 
was fought b}'' Jackson in consequence of this information. 

My object, however, is not to write a biography of Colonel 
Mosby. It is fortunate that such is not my design ; for a career 
of wonderful activity extending over about three years could 
not be condensed into a brief paper. I shall speak of but one or 
two other incidents in his career ; and one shall be his surprise 
of Brigadier-General Stoughton at Fairfiix Court-IIouse in the 
winter of 1862. This affair excited unbounded indignation on 
the part of many excellent peojde, though President Lincoln 
made a jest of it. Let us not see if it was not a legitimate partisan 
operation. It was in November, I believe, that Mosby received 
the information leading to his movement. The Federal forces 
at that time occupied the region between Fredericksburg and 
Alexandria ; and as General Stuart's activity and energy were 
just causes of solicitude, a strong body of infantry, cavalry, and 
artillery, was posted in the neighbourhood of Fairfax Court- 
House and Centreville. Colonel Wyndham was in command 
of the cavalry, and Acting Brigadier-General Stoughton, a young 



MOSBY. 117 

officer from "West Point, commanded the whole district, "with -his 
headquarters in the small village of Fairfax. Mosby formed 
the design of capturing General Stoughton, Colonel Wjndham, 
Colonel Johnson, and other officers ; and sent scouts to the 
neighbourhood to ascertain the force there. They brought 
word that a strong body of infantry and artillery was at Centre- 
ville ; Colonel Wyndham's brigade of cavalry at Germantown, 
a mile from Fairfax ; and toward the railroad station another 
brigade of infantry. J"airfax thus appeared to be inclosed within 
a cordon of all arms, rendering it wholly impossible even to 
approach it. Those who know the ground, as many of my 
readers doubtless do, will easily understand how desperate the 
undertaking appeared of penetrating to the town, and safely 
carrying off the Federal commandant. It was one of those 
schemes, however, whose very boldness is apt to cause them to 
succeed. Men rarely guard against dangers which they do not 
dream' it possible can threaten them. Mosby doubtless based his 
calculations upon this fact ; at any rate he decided upon the 
movement, and with twenty-nine men set out one dark and 
drizzling November night for the scene of operations. Newspa- 
per writers of the day stated that the party were dressed in 
Federal uniforms. This is not true. There was no sort of 
advantage in any such precaution. The party had to steal off 
with their captures, if any were made, or cut their way through, 
and on that black night no uniform was discernible. Mosby 
approached Germantown by the Little River turnpike; but fear- 
ing Wyndham's cavalry, obliqued to the right, and took to the 
woods skirting the Warrenton road. Centreville was thus, with 
its garrison, on his right and rear, Germantown on his left, and 
Fairfax, winged with infantry camps, in his front. It was now 
raining heavily, and the night was like pitch. The party 
advanced by bridle-paths through the woods, thus avoiding the 
pickets of the main avenues of approach, and the incessant patter 
of the rain drowned the hoof-strokes of the horses. A mile from 
Fairfax the gleam of tents greeted them in front, and finding the 
approaches barred in that direction they silently obliqued to the 
right again, crossed the Warrenton road, and gradually drew 



118 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

near the town on the southern side. Again the woods and the 
rain served them. Their advance was undiscovered, and at last 
they were close upon the place. An infantry picket was the 
only obstacle, but this was soon removed. The sleepy vidette 
found a pistol at his breast, and the picket was compelled to sur- 
render without firing a shot. The way was then clear, and 
Mosby entered the town at a gallop. His object was to capture 
the Federal officers known to be in the place, burn the public 
stores, and carry off as many horses as possible. His party was 
accordingly divided for these purposes, and Mosby himself pro- 
ceeded to General Stoughton's residence. It was afterwards 
said that a young lady of the place, Miss Ford, had supplied him 
with information, and now led him personally to the house. 
This, Colonel Mosby stated to the present writer, was entirely a 
mistake ; he received information neither from Miss Ford nor any 
one else, except his own scouts. To accompany him, however, in 
his visit to General Stoughton, he found an orderly at the door, 
who was taken charge of by one of the men, and then mounted 
to the general's bedchamber, the occupant of which was fast 
asleep. At Mosby 's unceremonious " Get up. General, and come 
with me ! " the sleeper started erect, and demanded : " Do you 
know who I am, sir?" apparently indignant at such want of 
ceremony. "Do you know Mosby, General?" was the reply. 

"Yes," was the eager response, " have you got the rascal?" 

" No, but he has got you ! " And to the startled " What does 
this mean, sir?" of General Stougliton, Mosby replied, "It means 
that General Stuart's cavalry are in possession of the Court-IIouse, 
sir, and that you are my prisoner." This disagreeable state of 
affairs slowly dawned upon the aroused sleeper, and he soon found 
himself dressed, mounted, and ready to set out — a prisoner. Seve- 
ral staff officers had also been captured, and a considerable num- 
ber of horses — Colonels Wyndham and Johnson eluded the search 
for them. Deciding not to burn the public stores which were in 
the houses, Mosby then mounted all his prisoners — some thirty- 
five, I believe, in number, including about half-a-dozen officers — 
cautiously retraced his steps, passing over the very same ground, 
and stealing along about down under the muzzles of the guns in 



MOSBY. 119 

the works at Centreville, so close that the sentinel hailed the 
party, swam Cub Eun, struck southward, and at sunrise was 
safe beyond pursuit. 

n. 

The skill and boldness exhibited in the conception and exe- 
cution of this raid conferred upon Alosby just fame as a partisan 
officer, and the regular organization of his command commenced. 
He was made captain, then major, then lieutenant-colonel, and 
colonel, as his force and his operations increased. 

From the sohtary scout, or humble partisan, operating with a 
small squad, he had now grown to be an officer of rank and dis- 
tinction, entrusted with important duties, and eventually with 
the guardianship of the whole extent of country north of the 
Eappahannock and east of the Blue Eidge. The people of the 
region speak of it, with a laugh, as " Mosby's Confederacy," and 
the name will probably adhere to it, in the popular mind, for 
many years to come. Let us pass to these latter days when 
" Colonel " Mosby gave the Federal forces so much trouble, and 
aroused so much indignation in Custer, Sheridan, and others, 
whose men he captured, and whose convoys he so frequently cut 
off and destroyed. The question of most interest is — Was Colonel 
Mosby a partisan officer, engaged in a perfectly legitimate war- 
fare, or was he a mere robber? The present writer regards any 
imputations upon the character of this officer, or upon the nature 
of the warfare which he carried on, as absurd. If the Confederate 
States army generally was a mere unlawful combination, and 
not entitled to be regarded as " belligerent," tlie case is made 
out; but there was no officer in that army who occupied a 
more formally official position than Mosby, or whose operations 
mor^ perfectly conformed to the rules of civilized warfare. Vir- 
ginia was invaded by the Federal forces, and large poi'tions of 
her territory -svere occupied and laid under contribution. Espe- 
cially was the country north of the Eappahannock thus exposed. 
It was a species of border-land which belonged to the party 
which could hold it; and to protect it from the inroads of 



120 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

the Federal forces, Mosbj instituted a regular system of parti- 
san warfare. His headquarters were generally near Upperville, 
just east of the ridge, and his scouts speedily brought him intelli- 
gence of any advance of the Federal cavalry. As soon as he was 
informed of their approach, he went to meet them, hovered near 
them, took his moment, and attacked them, his superior skill 
and knowledge of the country almost uniformly routing the force 
opposed to him. Another important part of his duty was to cut 
off and capture or destroy the trains of his adversaries. These 
things were exceedingly annoying, and made the Federal com- 
manders whose movements were thus crippled quite furious 
against the author of their embarrassments — but no person with 
the least knowledge of military affairs will stigmatize the de- 
struction of wagon trains as the work of a brigand. In the same 
manner the railroads supplying the Federal forces with commis- 
sary and other stores were destroyed wherever it could be done. 
Detached parties out foraging were, if possible, captured. Camps, 
picket posts, vedette stations, were surprised, when practicable, 
and prisoners seized upon. To harass, annoy, injure, and in 
every manner cripple or embarrass the opposing force, was the 
object of Colonel Mosby, as it has been of partisan officers in 
all the wars of history. The violent animosity felt toward him 
was attributable solely to the great skill, vigour, and success of 
his operations. The present writer has a tolerably fall acquaint- 
ance with the military record of Colonel Mosby and his com- 
mand, and he states, in all sincerity, that he can find in it nothing 
whatever that is " irregular " or unworthy of an ofl&cor and a 
gentleman. Mosby carried on a legitimate partisan warfare 
under a regular commission from the President of the Confede- 
rate States, and was in command of a regularly organized body 
of cavalry. He announced clearly his intention of disputing 
military possession of the country north of the Rappahannock, 
of harassing, retarding, or crippling any force invading Virginia, 
and of inflicting as much injury as possible upon his opponents. 
One single act of seeming cruelty is charged against him, the 
hanging of seven of Custer's men— but this was in retaliation for 
seven of his own which had been executed by that officer. This 



MOSBY. 121 

retaliation was in accordance with the rules of wacfare in every 
country, and his superiors disavowed the course of General Cus- 
ter, and directed such proceedings to cease. 

We have expended too much space upon this point. Colonel 
Mosby can afford to wait to have justice done him. He was 
respected by Jackson, Stuart, and Lee, and the world will not 
willingly believe him to have been a bandit. 

ni. 

"What was the appearance and character of the actual indi- 
vidual? What manner of personages were "Mosby and his 
men," as they really lived, and moved, and had their being in 
the forests and on the hills of Fauquier, in Virginia, in the years 
1863 and 1864? If the reader will accompany me, I will con- 
duct him to this beautiful region swept by the mountain winds, 
and will introduce him — remember, the date is 1864 — to a plain 
and unassuming personage clad in gray, with three stars upon 
his coat-collar, and two pistols in his belt. 

He is slender, gaunt, and active in figure ; his feet are small, 
and cased in cavalry boots, with brass spurs ; and the revolvers 
in his belt are worn with an air of " business " which is unmis- 
takable. The face of this person is tanned, beardless, youthful- 
looking, and pleasant. He has white and regular teeth, which 
his habitual smile reveals. His piercing eyes flash out from 
beneath his brown hat, with its golden cord, and he reins in his 
horse with the ease of a practised rider. A plain soldier, low 
and slight of stature, ready to talk, to laugh, to ride, to oblige 
you in any way — such was Mosbj^, in outward appearance. 
Nature had given no sign but the restless, roving, flashing eye, 
that there was much worth considering beneath. The eye did 
not convey a false expression. The commonplace exterior of 
the partisan concealed one of the most active, daring, and pene- 
trating minds of an epoch fruitful in such. Mosby was born to 
be a partisan leader, and as such was probably greater than any 
other who took part in the late war. He had by nature all the 
qualities which make the accomplished ranger ; nothing could 



/ 



122 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

daunt liim ; his activity of mind and body — call it, if you choose, 
restless, eternal love of movement — was something wonderful ; 
and that untiring energy which is the secret of half the great 
successes of history, drove him incessantly to plan, to scheme, to 
conceive, and to execute. He could not rest when there was 
anything to do, and scouted for his amusement, charging pickets 
solus by way of sport. On dark and rainy nights, when other 
men aim at being comfortably housed, Mosby liked to be moving 
with a detachment of his men to surprise and attack some 
Federal camp, or to "run in" some picket, and occasion con- 
sternation, if not inflict injury. 

The peculiar feature of his command was that the men occu- 
pied no stated camp, and, in fact, were never kept together 
except on an expedition. They were scattered throughout the 
country, especially among the small farm-houses in the spurs of 
the Blue Eidge; and here they lived the merriest lives imagin- 
able. They were subjected to none of the hardships and priva- 
tions of regular soldiers. Their horses were in comfortable 
stables, or ranged freely over excellent pastures ; the men lived 
with the families, slept in beds, and had nothing to do with 
"rations" of hard bread and bacon. Milk, butter, and all the 
household luxuries of peace were at their command ; and not 
until their chief summoned them did they buckle on their arms 
and get to horse. While they were thus living on the fat of the 
land, Mosby was perhaps scouting off on his private account, 
somewhere down toward Manassas, Alexandria, or Leesburg. 
If his excursions revealed an opening for successful operations, 
he sent off a well mounted courier, who travelled rapidly to the 
first nest of rangers ; thence a fresh courier carried the summons 
elsewhere ; and in a few hours twenty, thirty, or fifty men, 
excellently mounted, made their appearance at the prescribed 
rendezvous. The man who disregarded or evaded the second 
summons to a raid was summarily dealt with ; he received a note 
for delivery to General Stuart, and on reaching the cavalry head- 
quarters was directed to return to the company in the regular 
service from which he had been transferred. This seldom hap- 
pened, however. The men were all anxious to go upon raids, 



MOSBT. 123 

to share the rich spoils, and were prompt at the rendezvous. 
Once assembled, the rangers fell into column, Mosbj said 
" Come on," and the party set forward upon the appointed 
task — to surprise some camp, capture an army train, or ambush 
some detached party of Federal cavalry out on a foraging expe- 
dition. 

Such a life is attractive to the imagination, and the men came 
to have a passion for it. But it is a dangerous service. It may 
with propriety be regarded as a trial of wits between the oppos- 
ing commanders. The great praise of Mosby was, that his 
superior skill, activity, and good judgment gave him almost 
uninterrupted success, and invariably saved him from capture. 
An attack upon Colonel Cole, of the Maryland cavalry, near* 
Loudon Heights, in the winter of 1863-64, was his only serious 
failure ; and that appears to have resulted from a disobedience 
of bis orders. He had here some valuable officers and men 
killed. He was several times wounded, but never taken. On 
the last occasion, in 1864, he was shot through the window of a 
house in Fauquier, but managed to stagger into a darkened 
room, tear off" his stars, the badges of his rank, and counterfeit 
a person mortally wounded. His assailants left him dying, as 
they supposed, without discovering his identity ; and when they 
did discover it and hurried back, he had been removed beyond 
reach of peril. After his wounds he always reappeared paler 
and thinner, but more active and untiring than ever. They 
only seemed to exasperate him, and make him more dangerous 
to trains, scouting parties, and detached camps than before. 

The great secret of his success was undoubtedly his unbounded 
energy and enterprise. General Stuart came finally to repose 
unlimited confidence in his resources, and relied implicitly upon 
him. The writer recalls an instance of this in June, 1863. 
Greneral Stuart was then near Middleburg, watching the United 
States army — then about to move toward Pennsylvania — but 
could get no accurate information from his scouts. Silent, puz- 
zled, and doubtful, the General walked up and down, knitting 
his brows and reflecting, when the lithe figure of Mosby ap- 
peared, and Stuart uttered an exclamation of relief and satis- 



/ 



124 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

faction. They were speedily ia private consultation, and Mosby 
only came out again to mount his quick gray mare and set out, 
in a heavy storm, for the Federal camps. On the next' day he 
returned with information which put the entire cavalry in mo- 
tion. He had penetrated General Hooker's camps, ascertained 
everything, and safely returned. This had been done in his 
gray uniform, with his pistols at his belt — and I believe it was 
on this occasion that he gave a characteristic evidence of his 
coolness. He had captured a Federal cavalry-man, and they 
were riding on together, when suddenly they struck a column of 
the enemy's cavalry passing. Mosby drew his oil -cloth around 
him, cocked his pistol, and said to his companion, " If you make 
any sign or utter a word to have me captured, I will blow your 
brains out, and trust to the speed of my horse to escape. Keep 
quiet, and we will ride on without troubling anybody." His 
prisoner took the hint, believing doubtless that it was better to 
be a prisoner than a dead man ; and after riding along carelessly 
for some distance, as though he were one of the column, Mosby 
gradually edged off, and got away safely with his prisoner. 

But the subject beguiles us too far. The hundreds of adven- 
tures in which Mosby bore his part must be left for that extended 
record which will some day be made. My chief object in this 
brief paper has been to anticipate the sanguinary historians of 

the " Lieutenant-Colonel " order ; to show that Colonel 

Mosby was no black-browed ruffian, but a plain, unassuming 
ofl&cer of partisans, who gained his widely-extended reputation 
by that activity and energy which only men of military ability 
possess. This information in regard to the man is intended, as 
I have said, for Northern readers of fairness and candour ; for 
that class who would not willingly do injustice even to an adver- 
sary. In Virginia, Mosby is perfectly well known, and it would 
be unnecessary to argue here that the person who enjoyed the 
respect and confidence of Lee, Stuart, and Jackson, was worthy 
of it. Mosby was regarded by the people of Virginia in his 
true light as a man of great courage, decision, and energy, who 
embarked like others in a revolution whose principles and 
objects /he fully approved. In the hard struggle he fought 



MOSBY. 125 

bravely, exposed his person without stint, and overcame his 
opponents by superior military ability. To stigmatize him as a 
ruffian because he was a partisan is to throw obloquy upon the 
memory of Marion, Sumter, and Harry Lee, of the old Kevolu- 
tion. As long as war lasts, surprise of an enemy will continue 
to be a part of military tactics ; the destruction of his trains, 
munitions, stores, and communications, a legitimate object of 
endeavour. This Mosby did with great success, and he had no 
other object in view. The charge that he fought for plunder is 
singularly unjust. The writer of this is able to state of his own 
knowledge that Colonel Mosby rarely appropriated anything to 
his own use, unless it were arms, a saddle, or a captured horse, 
when his own was worn out ; and to-day, the man who cap- 
tured millions in stores and money is poorer than when he 
entered upon the struggle. 

This paper, written without the knowledge of Colonel Mosby, 
who is merely an acquaintance of the writer, and intended as a 
simple delineation of the man, has, in some manner, assumed the 
form of an apology for the partisan and his career. He needs 
none, and can await without fear that verdict of history which 
the late President of the United States justly declared "could 
not be avoided." In the pages which chronicle the great strug- 
gle of 1862, 1863, and 1864, Colonel Mosby will appear in his 
true character as the bold partisan, the daring leader of cavalry, 
the untiring, never-resting adversary of the Federal forces invad- 
ing Virginia. The burly-ruffian view of him will not bear 
inspection ; and if there are any who cannot erase from their 
minds this fanciful figure of a cold, coarse, heartless adventurer, 
I would beg them to dwell for a moment upon a picture which 
the Richmond correspondent of a Northern journal drew the 
other day. 

On a summer morning a solitary man was seen beside the 
grave of Stuart, in Hollywood Cemetery, near Richmond. The 
dew was on the grass, the birds sang overhead, the green hillock 
at the man's feet was all that remained of the daring leader of 
the Southern cavalry, who, after all his toils, his battles, and the 
shocks of desperate encounters, had come here to rest in peace. 



126 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

Beside this unmarked grave the solitary mourner remained long, 
pondering and remembering. Finally he plucked a wild flower, 
dropped it upon the grave, and with tears in his eyes, left the 
place. 

This lonely mourner at the grave of Stuart was Mosby. 







^ 01 

^ a 



bo 



^ CS S 



- X! ^ I 






VIII. 
PELHAM "THE GALLANT." 



I. 

On the morning of the 17th of March, 1863, Averill's Federal 
Cavalry, three thousand in the saddle, crossed the Eappahan- 
nock at Kelly's Ford, and attacked about eight hundred of 
General Fitz Lee's command, who faced, without shrinking, 
these great odds, and fought them stubbornly at every point 
throughout the entire day. 

When the sun set on that tranquil evening — sinking slowly 
down behind the quiet forest, unstirred by the least breath of 
wind — the long and desperate struggle was decided. The enemy 
was retiring, "badly hurt," and General Stuart added in his 
dispatch : " We are after him. His dead men and horses strew 
the road." 

No harder battle was fought during the entire war. The 
Southern forces won the day by hard and desperate fighting, in 
charge after charge ; but lost in the struggle some of the most 
valiant hearts that ever beat. Puller, Harris, and Pelham were 
among the number — the "gallant Pelham" of the battle of 
Fredericksburg. He was in the performance of his duty as Chief 
of Artillery, and was riding towards his General, when a regi- 
ment of cavalry swept by him in a charge. He was waving his 
hat aloft, and cheering them on, when a fragment of shell struck 
him on the head, mortally wounding him. He lingered until 
after midnight on the morning of the 18th, when General 
Stuart telegraphed to Mr. Curry, of Alabama : 

"The noble, the chivalric, the gallant Pelham is no more. 



12S WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

He was killed in action yesterday. His remains will be sent to 
you to-day. How mucli he was beloved, appreciated, and ad- 
mired, let the tears of agony we have shed, and the gloom of 
mourning throughout my command, bear witness. His loss is 
irreparable." 

The body of the young officer was sent to Richmond, laid in 
state in the Capitol of Virginia, and we are told that "some 
tender hand deposited an evergreen wreath, intertwined with 
white flowers, upon the case that contained all that was mortal 
of the fallen hero." His family received the soldier's remains; 
they were taken to his Southern home; Virginia, the field of 
his fame, had surrendered him to Alabama, the land of his birth. 

" The Major-General commanding," wrote Stuart, in a general 
order, " approaches with reluctance the painful duty of announc- 
ing to the Division its irreparable loss in the death of Major 
John Pelham, commanding the Horse Artillery. 

"He fell mortally wounded in the battle of Kellysville, 
March i7th, with the battle-crj'- on his lips, and the light of 
victory beaming from his eye. 

" To you, his comrades, it is needless to dwell upon what you 
have so often witnessed — his prowess in action, already pro- 
verbial. You well know how, though young in years, a mere 
stripling in appearance, remarkable for his genuine modesty of 
deportment, he yet disclosed on the battle-field the conduct of 
a veteran, and displayed in his handsome person the most im- 
perturbable coolness in danger. 

" His eye had glanced over every battle-field of this army, 
from the first Manassas to the moment of his death, and he was, 
with a single exception, a brilliant actor in all. 

"The memory of 'the gallant Pelham,' his many virtues, 
his noble nature and purity of character, is enshrined as a sacred 
legacy in the hearts of all who knew him. 

" His record has been bright and spotless ; his career brilliant 
and successful. 

" He fell — the noblest of sacrifices — on the altar of his coun- 
try, to whose glorious service he had dedicated his life from the 
beginnino: of the war." 



PELHAM "the gallant." 129 

Thus passed away a noble, lofty soul ; thus ended a career, 
brief, it is true, but among the most arduous, glorious, and splen- 
did of the war. Young, but immortal — a boy in years, but heir 
to undying fame — he was called away from the scene of his 
triumphs and glory to a brighter world, where neither wars nor 
rumours of wars can come, and wounds and pain and suffering 
are unknown ; where 

" Malice domestic, foreign levy, nothing 
Can touch him further I " 

11. 

To him who writes these lines, the deatb of this noble youth 
has been inexpressibly saddening. It bas cast a shadow on the 
very sunlight ; and the world seems, somehow, colder and more 
dreary since he went away. It was but yesterday almost that 
he was in his tent, and I looked into his frank, brave eyes, and 
heard his kind, honest voice.* There is the seat he occupied as 
we conversed — the bed where he so often slept with me, pro- 
longing his gay talk deep into the night. There are the books 
he read — the papers which he wrote ; at this table he once sat, 
and here where my own hand rests has rested the hand of the 
Dead ! Every object thus recalls him, even as he lived and 
moved beside me but a few days ago. His very words seem still 
echoing in the air, and tlie dreary camp is full of his presence ! 

Nor am I the only one whose heart hris bled for the young sol- 
dier. All who knew him loved him for his gay, sweet temper, 
as they admired him for his unshrinking courage. I have seen 
no face over which a sort of shadow did not pass at the announce- 
ment, "Pelham is dead! " 

" Pelham is dead ! " It is only another mode of saying " honour 
is dead ! courage is dead ! modesty, kindness, courtesy, the inborn 
spirit of the true and perfect gentleman, the nerve of the soldier, 
the gaiety of the good companion, the kindly heart, and the reso- 
lute soul — all dead, and never more to revisit us in his person ! " 

These words are not dictated by a blind partiality or mere 

♦ Written at "Camp No. — camp," in the spring of 1863. 
9 



130 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

personal regard for the brave youth who has fallen in front of 
the foe, in defence of the sacred liberties of the South. Of his 
unshrinlving nerve and coolness in the hour of peril, the name 
of " the gallant Pelham," given him by General Lee at Frede- 
ricksburg, will bear witness. Of his noble, truthful nature, those 
who knew him best will speak. 

He had made for himself a celebrated name, and he was only 
twenty-four when he died ! 

A son of the great State of Alabama, and descended from an 
old and honourable family there, he had the courage of his race 
and clime. He chose arms as his profession, and entered West 
Point, where he graduated just as the war commenced ; lost no 
time in offering his services to the South, and received the 
appointment of First-Lieutenant in the Confederate States army. 
Proceeding to Harper's Ferry, when General Johnston was in 
command there, he was assigned to duty as drill-officer of artil- 
lery, and in the battle of Manassas commanded a battery, which 
he fought with that daring courage which afterwards rendered 
him so famous. He speedily attracted the attention of the higher 
Generals of the army, and General J, E. B. Stuart entrusted him 
with the organization of the battalion of Horse Artillery which 
he subsequently commanded in nearly every battle of the war 
upon Virginia soil. Here I knew him first. 

From the moment when he took command of that famous 
corps, a new system of artillery fighting seemed to be inaugu-' 
rated. The rapiditj^, the rush, the impetus of the cavalry, were 
grafted on its more deliberate brother. Not once, but repeat- 
edly, has the Horse Artillery of Pelham given chase at full 
speed to a flying enemy ; and, far in advance of all infantry 
support, unlimbered and hurled its thunders on the foe. It was 
ever at the point where the line was weakest; and however 
headlong the charge of the cavalry, the whirling guns were 
beside it, all ready for their part. " Trot, march ! " had yielded 
to " gallop ! " with the battalion ; it was rushed into position, 
and put in action with a rush ; and in and out among the guns 
where the bolts fell thickest was the brave young artillerist, 
cool and self-possessed, but, as one of his officers said the other 



PELHAM "the gallant." 131 

day, "as gay as a school-boy at a frolic." He loved his profes- 
sion for its own sake ; and often spoke to the officers above alluded 
to of tlie "jolly good fights" he would have in the present cnrn- 
paign ; but I anticipate my subject. 

Once associated with the command of Stuart, he secured the 
warm regard and unlimited confidence of that General, who 
employed his services upon every occasion. Thenceforth their 
fortunes seemed united, like their hearts; and the young man 
became known as one of the most desperate fighters of the whole 
army. He was rightly regarded by Jackson and others as pos- 
sessed of a very extraordinary genius for artillery; and when 
any movement of unusual importance was designed, Pelham was 
assigned to the artillery to be employed. 

His career was a brief one, but how glorious ! How crow^ded 
with great events that are history now ! Let us glance at it: 

When the Southern forces fell back from Manassas in 1861, 
liis batteries had their part in covering the movement, and 
guarding the fords of the Rappahannock. During the campaign 
of the Peninsula, his Blakely was as a sentinel on post near the 
enemy ; and at the battle of Williamsburg his courage and skill 
transformed raw militia into veterans. In the seven days' bat- 
tles around Richmond he won fadeless laurels. With one 
Napoleon, he engaged three heavy batteries, and fought them 
with a pertinacity and unfaltering nerve which made the calm 
face of Jackson glow ; and the pressure of that heroic hand, 
warm and eloquent of unspoken admiration. Soon afterwards, 
at the "White House," he engaged a gunboat, and driving it 
away, after a brief but hot encounter, proved how fanciful were 
the terrors of these " monsters." 

His greatest achievements were to come, however; and he 
hastened to record them on the enduring tablets of history. 
From the moment when his artillery advanced from the Rappa- 
hannock, to the time when it returned thither, to the day of 
Fredericksburg, the path of the young leader was deluged with 
the blood of battle. At Manassas he rushed his guns into the 
very columns of the enemy almost ; fighting their sharpshooters 
with canister, amid a hurricane of balls. At Sharpsburg he had 



132 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

command of nearly all the artillery on our left, and directed it 
•with the hand of a master. When the army crossed back into 
Virginia, he was posted at Shepherdstown, and guarded the ford 
with an obstinate valour, which spoke in the regular and unceas- 
ing reverberation of his deep-mouthed Napoleons, as they roared 
on, hour after tour, driving back the enemy. 

Of the days which succeeded that exciting period, many per- 
sons will long hold the memory. It was in an honest old coun- 
try-house, whither the tide of war bore him for a time, that the 
noble nature of the young soldier shone forth in all its charms. 
There, in the old hall on the banks of the Opequon, surrounded 
by warm hearts who reminded him perhaps of his own beloved 
ones in far Alabama ; there, in the tranquil days of autumn, in 
that beautiful country, he seemed to pass some of his happiest 
hours. All were charmed with his kind temper and his sunny 
disposition ; with his refinement, his courtes}', his high breeding, 
and simplicity. Modest to a fault almost — blushing like a girl 
at times, and wholly unassuming in his entire deportment — he 
became a favourite with all around him, and secured that regard 
of good men and women which is the proof of high traits and 
fine instincts in its possessor. In the beautiful autumn forests, 
by the stream with its great sycamores, and under the tall oaks 
of the lawn, he thus wandered for a time — an exile from his own 
land of Alabama, but loved, admired, and cherished by warm 
hearts in this. When he left the haunts of "The Bower," I 
think he regretted it. But work called him. 

The fiat had gone forth from Washington that another "On 
to Richmond" should be attempted ; and where the vultures of 
war hovered, there was the post of duty for the Horse Artillery. 
The cavalry crossed the Blue Ridge, and met the advancing 
column at Aldie — and Pelham was again in his element. 
Thenceforward, until the banks of the Rappahannock were 
reached by the cavalry, the batteries of the Horse Artillery dis- 
puted every step of ground. The direction of the artillery was 
left, with unhesitating confidence, by Stuart to the young officer; 
and those who witnessed, during that arduous movement, the 
masterly handling of his guns, can tell, how this confidence was 



PELHAM "the gallant." 133 

justified. It was the eye of the great soldier, the hand of the 
born artillerist, which was evident in his work during those days 
of struggle. He fell back neither too soon nor too late, and 
only limbered up his guns to unlimber again in the first posi- 
tion which he reached. Thus fighting every inch of the way 
from Aldie, round by Paris, and Alarkham's, he reached the 
Eappahannock, and posted his artillery at the fords, where he 
stood and bade the enemy defiance. That page in the history 
of the war is scarcely known ; but those who were present know 
the obstinacy of the contests, and the nerve and skill which 
were displayed by the young ofiicer. 

That may be unknown, but the work done by Pelham on the 
great day of Fredericksburg is a part of history now. All know 
how stubbornly he stood on that day — what laurels encircled 
his young brow when night at last came. This was the climax 
of his flime — the event with which his name will be inseparably 
connected. With one Napoleon gun, he opened the battle on 
the right, and instantly drew upon himself the fire, at close 
range, of three or four batteries in front, and a heavy enfilading 
fire from thirty-pound Parrots across the river. But this moved 
him little. That Napoleon gun was the same which he had 
used at the battle of Cold Harbour — it was taken from the enemy 
at Seven Pines — and, in the hands of the young officer, it had 
won a fome which must not be tarnished by defeat ! Its grim 
voice must roar, however great the odds; its reverberating defi- 
ance must roll over the plain, until the bronze war-dog was 
silenced. So it roared on steadily with Pelham beside it, blow- 
ing up caissons, and continuing to tear the enemy's ranks. Gene- 
ral Lee was watching it from the hill above, and exclaimed, 
with eyes filled with admiration, "It is glorious to see such cou- 
rage in one so young! " It was glorious indeed to see that one 
gun, placed in an important position, hold its ground with a 
firmness so unflinching. Not until his last round of ammuni- 
tion was shot away did Pelham retire ; and then only after a 
peremptory order sent to him. He afterwards took command of 
the entire artillery on the right, and fought it until night with a 
skill and courage which were admirable. He advanced his guns 



134 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

steadily, and at nightfall was thundering on the flank of the 
retreating enemy, who no longer replied. No answering roar 
came back from those batteries he had fought with his Napo- 
leon so long ; he had triumphed. That triumph was complete, 
and placed for ever upon record when the great Commander-in- 
Chief, whom he loved and admired so ardently, gave him the 
name in his report of " the gallant Pelham." 

Supreme tribute to his courage — immortalizing him in history ! 
To be the sole name mentioned beneath the rank of Major-General 
in all that host of heroes — and mentioned as "the gallant Pelham 1" 

Thenceforward there was little for him to desire. He had 
never cared for rank, only longed for glory ; and now his name 
was deathless. It is true that he sometimes said, with modest 
and noble pride, that he thought it somewhat hard to be con- 
sidered too young for promotion, when they gave him great com- 
mands — as at Sharpsburg and Fredericksburg — and called on 
him when the hardest work was to be done. But he never 
desired a mere title he had not won, and did his soldier's duty 
thoroughly, trusting to time. So noble and important, however, 
had been his recent services, that promotion was a matter of 
course. The President said, " I do not need to see any papers 
about Major Pelham," and had appointed him a Lieutenant- 
Colonel ; and it only awaited the formal confirmation of the 
Senate, when he fell on the Rappahannock. His fall was a pub- 
lic calamity to the nation, but none to him. It was tit that such 
a spirit should lay down his great work before the hard life of 
the world had dimmed the polish of the good knight's spotless 
shield. He wanted no promotion at the hands of men. He had 
won, if not worn, the highest honours of the great soldier ; and 
having finished his task, the gentle spirit took its flight, pro- 
moted by the tender hand of Death to other honours in a 
brighter world. 

III. 

In this hasty tribute to one whom I knew well, and loved 
much, it is hard to avoid the appearance of exaggeration. The 
character of this young soldier was so eminently noble — his soul 



PELHAM "the gallant." 135 

SO brave, so true, so free from any taint of what was mean or 
sordid or little — that the sober words of truth may be doubted 
by some, who will only regard them as that tender and pious 
flattery which friendship accords to the dead. 

This sentiment will be experienced only by strangers, how- 
ever. Those who knew him will recognise the true portrait. 
His modesty, his gentleness — his bearing almost childlike in its 
simplicity — made his society charming. This modesty of deport- 
ment was observed by every one, and strangers often referred to 
the singular phenomenon in a youth bred in the self-suflEicient 
atmosphere of West Point, and whose name was already so 
famous. He never spoke of himself; you might live with him 
for a month, and never know that he had' been in a single action. 
He never seemed to think that he deserved any applause for his 
splendid courage, and was silent upon all subjects connected 
with his own actions. In his purse was found folded away, 
after his death, a slip from a United States officer, once his 
friend, which contained the words, " After long silence, I write. 
God bless you, dear Pelham ; I am proud of your success." 
But he had never even alluded to the paper. Distinguished 
unmistakably by the affection and admiration of his immediate 
General — rendered famous by the praise of the Commander-in- 
Chief at Fredericksburg — he never exhibited the least trait of 
self-love, remaining still what he had always been, as modest, 
unassuming, and simple as a child. 

This and other winning traits come to my mind as I w^rite, 
and I could speak at length of all those charming endowments 
which endeared him to every one around him. I could dwell on 
his nice sense of honour — his devotion to his family — on that 
•prisca fides in his feeling and opinions which made him a great, 
true type of the Southern gentleman, attracting the attention and 
respect of the most eminent personages of his time. But with 
the recollection of those eminent social characteristics comes the 
memory always of his long, hard work in the service. I have 
often seen him engaged in that work, which gave him his great 
fame ; and this phase of the young officer's character obtrudes 
itself, rounding and completing the outline. 



186 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

With what obstinate and unyielding courage he fought I— 
with a daring how splendid, how rich in suggestion of the antique 
days ! He entered upon a battle with the coolness and resolu- 
tion of a great leader trained in a thousand combats, and fought 
his guns with the fury and elan of Murat at the head of his 
horsemen. No trait of the ground, no movement of the enemy, 
ever escaped his eagle eye. With an inborn genius for war 
which West Point had merely developed, and directed in its 
proper channels, he had that rapid comprehension — intuition 
almost — which counts for so much in a leader. Where tlie con- 
test was hottest and the pressure heaviest, there was Pelham with 
his guns ; and the broken lines of infantry, or cavalry giving 
ground before irresistible numbers, heard their deep voices roaring 
and saw the ranks of the enemy scattered. Often he waited for 
no order, took the whole responsibility, and opened his batteries 
where he saw that they were most needed by the emergencies of 
the moment. But what he did was always the very best that 
could be done. lie struck at the right moment, and his arm 
was heavy. To the cavalry, the roar of Pelham's Napoleons was 
a welcome sound. When the deep-mouthed thunder of those 
guns was heard, the faintest took heart, and the contest assumed 
a new phase to all-7for that sound had proved on many a field 
the harbinger of victory.* 

Beside those guns was the chosen post of the young artillerist. 
The gaudium certartiinis seemed to fill his being at such moments ; 
and, however numerous the batteries which he threw into action; 
he never remained behind " in command of the whole field." 
He told me that he considered this his duty, and I know that he 
never shrank — as he might have done — from performing it. 



* The rumour has obtained a wide circulation that Major Peliiam lost ona or 
more of his guns when the cavalry fell back from the mountains. The report is 
entirely without foundation. He never lost a gun there or anywhere else. Though 
he fought his pieces with such obstinacy that the enemy more than once charged 
within ten yards of the muzzles of the guns, he always drove them back, and 
brought his artillery off safely. He asked my friendly offices in making public 
this statement. I neglected it, but now put the facts on record, in justice to his 
memory. 



PELHAM "the gallant." 137 

He was ever by the guns which were under the hottest fire ; 
and, when the enemy shifted their fire to other portions of the 
field, he proceeded thither, riding at full speed, and directed the 
fresh batteries in person. His men will remember how cheer- 
ing and inspiring was his presence with them — how his coolness 
steadied them in the most exciting moments — and his brave, 
cheerful voice was the herald of success. "He was the bravest 
human being I ever saw in my life," said one of his officers 
whom I conversed with recently ; and all who have seen him 
under fire will bear similar testimony. His coolness had some- 
thing heroic in it. It never deserted him, or was affected by 
those chances of battle which excite the bravest. He saw guns 
shattered and dismounted, or men torn to pieces, without exhi- 
biting any signs of emotion. His nature seemed strung and 
every muscle braced to a pitch which made him rock ; and the 
ghastliest spectacle of blood and death left his soul unmoved — 
his stern will unbent. 

That unbending will had been tested often, and never had 
failed him yet. At Manassas, Williamsburg, Cold Harbour, 
Groveton, Oxhill, Sharpsburg, Shepherdstown, Kearneysville, 
Aldie, Union, Upperville, Markham, Barbee's, Hazel Eiver, and 
Fredericksburg — at these and many other places he fought his 
horse artillery, and handled it with heroic coolness. One day 
when I led him to speak of his career, he counted up something 
like a hundred actions which he had been in — and in every one 
he had borne a prominent part. Talk with the associates of the 
young leader in those hard-fought battles, and they will tell you 
a hundred instances of his dauntless courage. At Manassas he 
took position in a place so dangerous that an officer, who had 
followed him up to that moment, rode away with the declaration 
that " if Pelham was fool enough to stay there, he was not.''^ 
But General Jackson thanked him, as he thanked him at Cold 
Harbour, when the brave young soldier came back covered with 
dust from fighting his Napoleon — the light of victory in his 
eyes. At Markham, while he was fighting the enemy in front, 
they made a circuit and charged him in the rear ; but he turned 
his guns ab(;ut, and fought them as before, with his " Napoleon 



138 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

detachment" singing the loud, triumphant Marseillaise, as that 
same Napoleon gun, captured at Seven Pines, and used at Frede- 
ricksburg, drove them back. All that whole great movement 
was a marvel of hard fighting, however, and Pelham was the 
hero of the stout, close struggle. Any other chief of artillery 
miglit have sent his men in at Fredericksburg and elsewhere, 
leaving the direction of the guns to such officers as the brave 
Captain Henry ; but this did not suit the young chieftain. He 
must go himself with the one gun sent forward, and beside that 
piece he remained until it was ordered back — directing his men 
to lie down, but sitting his own horse, and intent solely upon- 
the movements and designs of the enemy, wholly careless of the 
" fire of hell " hurled against him. It was glorious, indeed, as 
General Lee declared, to see such heroism in the boyish artil- 
lerist ; and well might General Jackson speak of him in terms 
of " exaggerated compliment," and ask General Stuart " if he 
had another Pelham, to give him to /iz'm." On that great day, 
the young son of Alabama covered himself with glory— but no 
one who knew him felt any surprise at it. Those who had seen 
him at work upon other fields knew the dauntless resolution of 
his brave young soul — the tough and stern fibre of his courage. 
That hard fibre could bear any strain upon it and remain un- 
moved. 

In all those hard combats, no ball or shell ever struck him. 
The glance of the blue eyes seemed to conquer Danger, and 
render Death powerless. He seemed to bear a charmed life, and 
to pass amid showers of bullets without peril or fear of the result. 
It was not from the enemy's artillery alone that he ran the 
greatest danger in battle. He was never content to remain at 
his guns if they were silent. His mind was full of the contest, 
pondering its chances, as though he had command of the whole 
army himself; he never rested in his exertions to penetrate the 
designs of the enem3\ Upon such occasions he was the mark at 
which the sharpshooters directed their most dangerous fire ; but 
they never struck him. The balls' passed to the right or left, or 
overhead — his hour had not yet come. 

It came at last in that hard fight upon the Rappahannock, and 



PELHAM "the gallant." 139 

the famous youth hes low at last. He fell " with the battle-cry 
on his lips, and the light of victory beaming from his ej'e.'" , In 
the words of the general order which his beloved commander 
issued, " His record bad been bright and spotless ; his career 
brilliant and successful ; he fell the noblest of sacrifices on the 
altar of his country." 

The theme grows beneath the pen which at first attempted a 
slight sketch only, and my paper is growing too long. A few 
worcTs more will complete the outline of this eminent young 
soldier. 

The name of Pelham will remain connected for ever with great 
events ; but it will live perennial, too, in many hearts who mourn 
bitterly his untimely end. All who knew him loved him ; I 
believe that no human being disliked him. His character was 
so frank, and open, and beautiful — his bearing so modest and 
unassuming — that he conciUated all hearts, and made every one 
who met him his friend. His passions were strong ; and when he 
was aroused fire darted from the flint, but this was seldom. 
During all my acquaintance with him — and that acquaintance 
dated back to the autumn of 1861 — I never had a word addressed 
to me that was unfriendly, and never saw him angry but twice, 
" Poor boy ! " said Stuart one day, " he was angry with me once^'' 
and the, speaker had known him longer than I had. He had rare 
self-control, and I think that this sprang in a great measure from 
a religious sense of dutj-. ' He would sit and read his Bible with 
close attention ; and, tliuugh he never made a profession of his 
religious convictions, it is certain that these convictions shaped his 
conduct. The thought of death never seemed to cross his mind, 
however ; and he once told me that he had never felt as if he was 
destined to be killed in the war, Alas ! the brief proverb is the 
comment: " Man proposes, God disposes," 

Thus, modest, brave, loving, and beloved — the famous soldier, 
the charming companion — he passed away from the friends who 
cherished him, leaving a void which none other can fill, Alabama 
lent him to Virginia for a time ; but, alas ! the pale face smiles 
no more as he returns to her. As many mourn his early death 
here, where his glory was won, as in the southern land from which 



140 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

be came. To these — the wide circle who loved him for his great 
qualities, and his kind, good heart — his loss is ii-reparable, as it is 
to the whole South. The " breed of noble minds " like his is not 
numerous, and when such forms disappear the gap is hard to fill 
— the struggle more arduous than before. But the memory of 
this great young soldier still remains with us, his name is 
immortal in history as in many hearts which throbbed at his 
death ! 

Poor colourless phrases ! — faded flowers I try to strew on the 
grave of this noble soul ! But the loss is too recent, and the 
wound has not yet healed. The heart still bleeds as the pen traces 
the dull words on the page. 

" Mourn for him 1 Let him be regajded 
As the most noble corse that ever herald 
Did follow to his urn I " 

Strange words ! — it may be said — for a boy little more than 
twenty ! Exaggerated estimate of his loss ! 

No, the words are not strange ; the loss is not exaggerated — 
for the name of this youth was John Pelham 



IX. 
FARLEY ^'THE SCOUT." 



Ill the old " Confederate Army of the Potomac," and then in 
the " Army of Northern Virginia," there was a man so notable 
for daring, skill, and efficiency as a partisan, that all who valued 
those great qualities honoured him as their chiefest exemplar. 
He was known among the soldiers as " Farley, the Scout," but 
that term did not express him fully. He was not only a scout, 
but a partisan leader; an officer of excellent judgment and mag- 
nificent dash ; a soldier born, who took to the work with all the' 
skill and readiness of one who engages in that occupation for 
which, by Providence, he is especially designed. 

He served from the beginning of the war to the hard battle 
of Fleetwood, in Culpeper, fought on the 9th of June, 1863. 
There4ie fell, his leg shattered by a fragment of shell, mid the 
brave true soul went to rejoin its ]\Iaker. 

One of the chiefest spites of fate is that oblivion which sub- 
merges the greatest names and events. The design of this brief 
paper is to put upon record some particulars of the career of a 
brave soldier — so that, in that "aftertime" which sums up the 
work and glory of the men of this epoch, his name shall not be 
lost to memory. 

Farley was born at Laurens village. South Carolina, on the 
19th of December, 1835. He was descended, in a direct line, 
from the " Douglas " of Scotland, and his father, who was born 
on the Roanoke river, in Charlotte county, Virginia, was one of 
the most accomplished gentlemen of his time. He emigrated to 



142 WEARING OF THE GRAY.. 

South Carolina at the age of twcntj-one, married, and com- 
menced there the practice of law. To the son, the issue of this 
marriage, he gave the name of William Downs Farley, after his 
father-in-law, Colonel William F. Downs, a distinguished law- 
yer, member of the Legislature, and an officer of the war of 1812. 
The father of this Colonel Downs was Major Jonathan Downs, 
a patriot of '76 ; his mother, a daughter of Captain Louis Saxon, 
also distinguished in our first great struggle ; thus our young 
partisan of 1863 had fighting blood in his veins, and, in plung- 
ing into the contest, only followed the traditions of his race. 

From earliest childhood he betrayed the instincts of the man 
of genius.. Those who recollect him then, declare that his 
nature seemed composed of two mingled elements — the one 
gentle and reflective, the other ardent and enthusiastic. Passion- 
ately fond of Shakspeare and the elder poets, he loved to wan- 
der away into the Moods, and, stretched beneath some great oak, 
pass hour after hour in dreamy musing; but if, at such times, 
he heard the cry of the hounds and the shouts of his compa- 
nions, his dreams were dissipated, and throwing aside his volume, 
he would join in the chase with headlong ardour. 

At the age of seventeen, he made, in company with a friend, 
the tour of the Northern States, and then was sent to the Uni- 
versity of Virginia, where his education was completed. The 
summer vacation gave him an opportunity of making a pedes- 
trian excursion through Virginia ; and thus, having enlarged 
his mind by study and travel through the Xorth and a portion 
of the South, he returned to South Carolina. Here he occupied 
himself in rendering assistance to his father, who had become 
an invalid, and, we believe, commenced the practice of the law. 
His love of roving, however, did not desert him, and his flither's 
business required repeated journeys into the interior of the 
State. The scenery of the mountains proved a deep and lasting 
source of joy to him, and, standing on the summits of the great 
ranges, he has been seen to remain in such rapt contemplation 
of the landscape that* he could scarcely be aroused and brought 
back to the real world. These ex})editions undoubtedly fostered 
in the youthful South Carolinian that ardent love of everything 



FARLEY "the SCOUT." 143 

connected with Lis native State wliicb, with his craving for wild 
adventure, constituted the controlling elements of his being. 

"He had now attained," a friend writes, "the pride and matu- 
rity of manhood. There were few handsomer or more prepos- 
sessing men. As a young man said, after the battle of Culpeper, 
in speaking of the loss of Farley and Hampton, "two of the 
handsomest men in our State have fallen." His figure was of 
medium height, elegantly formed, graceful, well knit, and, from 
habitual exercise in the gymnasium, possessing a remarkable 
degree of strength and activity. His hair was dark brown ; his 
eyebrows and lashes were so dark, and so shaded the dark grey 
eyes beneath as to give them the appearance of blackness. His 
manner was generally quiet, polished, and elegant; but let him 
be aroused b}^ seme topic which awoke his enthusiasm (seces- 
sion and the Yankees, for instance), and he suddenly stood trans- 
formed before you ; and in the flashing eye and changing cheek 
you beheld the dashing " Hero of the Potomac! " 

" His m.oral character," says the same authority, " was pure 
and noble — ' Sans peur ei sans rejjroche.^ It is a well known fact 
among his friends and associates that ardent spirits of any kind 
had never passed his lips until the first battle of Manassas, when, 
being sick with measles, he fought until almost fainting, and 
accepted a draught from the canteen of a friend. This was the 
Jirsi and last drink he ever took. 

" His father, whose last hours he watched with untiring care 
and attention, died just before the opening of the war. Captain 
Farlc}^ had, from an early age, taken great interest in the politi- 
cal aflairs of the country ; he was a warm advocate of State 
Rights, and now entered into the spirit of secession with eager- 
ness and enthusiasm. He was very instrumental in bringing 
about a unanimity of opinion on this subject in his own district. 

"He made frequent visits to Charleston, with the hope of 
beinsf in the scene of action should an attack be made on the 

O 

city ; and was greatly chagrined that the battle of Sumter was 
fought during a short absence, and he only reached the city on 
the day following. He was the first man in his district to fly 
to the defence of Virginia, whose sacred soil he loved with a 



144 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

devotion only inferior to that which he bore his own State. 
He joined Gregg's regiment, in which he served three months, 
and on the disbanding of which he became an independent 
fighter." 

From this time commences that career of personal adventure 
and romantic exploits which made him so famous. Shoulder- 
ing his rifle — now riding, then on foot — he proceeded to the far 
outposts nearest to the enem}', and w^as indefatigable in penetrat- 
ing their lines, harassing detached parties, and gaining informa- 
tion for Generals Bonham and Beauregard. Falling back with 
the army from Fairfax, he fought — though so sick that he could 
scarcely stand — in the first battle of Manassas, and then entered 
permanently upon the life of the scout, speedily attracting to 
himself the unconcealed admiration of the whole army. To 
note the outlines even of his performances at that time, would 
require thrice the space we have at our disposal. He seemed 
omnipresent on every portion of the lines; and if any daring 
deed was undertaken — any expedition which was to puzzle, 
harass, or surprise the enemy — Farley was sure to be there. 
With three men he took and held Upton's Hill, directly in face 
of the enemy ; on numberless occasions he surprised the ene- 
my's pickets; and with three others, waylaid and attacked a 
column of several hundred cavalry led by Colonel (afterwards 
General) Bayard, whose horse he killed, slightly wounding the 
rider. This audacious attack was made some ten or fifteen miles 
beyond the Southern lines, and nothing bufa love of the most 
desperate adventure could have led to it. Farley ambushed the 
enemy, concealing his little band of three men in some pines; 
and although they might easily have remained perdus until the 
column passed, and so escaped, Farley determined to attack, and 
did attack — firing first upon Bayard, and nearly stampeding his 
whole regiment. After a desperate encounter he and his little 
party were all captured or killed, and Farley was taken to the 
Old Capitol in Washington, where he remained some time in 
captivity. General Bayard mentioned this affair afterwards in 
an interview with General Stuart, and spoke in warm terms of 
th ' courage which led Farley to undertake so desperate an 



yAELEY "the scout." 145 

adventure. Released from prison, Farley hastened back to his 
old "stamping ground" around Centreville, reaching that place 
in the winter of 1861. He speedily received the most flattering 
proposals from some eminent officers who were going to the 
South-west; but chancing to meet General Stuart, that officer 
took violent possession of him, and thenceforth kept him near 
his person as volunteer aide-de-camp. With this arrangement 
Farley soon became greatly pleased. He had already seen Stu- 
art at work, and that love of adventure and contempt of danger 
— the coolness, self-possession, and mastery of the situation, how- 
ever perilous — which characterized both, proved a lasting bond 
of union between them. 

IT. 

Thenceforth, Farley was satisfied. His position was one 
which suited his peculiar views and habits admirably. Untram- 
melled by special duties — never tied down to the routine of com- 
mand, or the commonplace round of camp duty — free as the 
wind to go or come whenever and wheresoever he pleased, all 
the instincts of his peculiar organization had " ample room and 
verge enough" for their development; and his splendid native 
traits had the fullest swing and opportunity of display. It was 
in vain that General Stuart, estimating at their full value his 
capacity for command, repeatedly offered him position. He did 
not want any commission, he said ; his place suited him perfectly, 
and he believed he "could do more service to the cause as scout 
and partisan than as a regular line-officer. He had not entered 
the army,, he often declared to me, for place or position ; promo- 
tion was not his object; to do as much injury as possible to the 
enemy was his sole, controlling sentiment, and he was satisfied 
to be where he was. 

His devotion to the cause was indeed profound and almost 
passionate. He never rested in his exertions, and seemed to feel 
as if the success of the struggle depended entirely on his own 
exertions. A friend once said to him: "If, as in ancient Roman 
days, an immense gulf should miraculously open, and an oracle 
should declare that the honour and peace of the country could 

10 



l-i6 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

only be maintained by one of her youths throwing himself into 
it, do you believe you could do it ? " He looked serious, and 
answered earnestly and with emphasis, " I believe I couldP 

Thus permanently attached as volunteer aide to General Stuart, 
Farley thereafter took part in all the movements of the cavalry. 
He was with them in that hot falling back from'Centreville, in 
March, 1862 ; in the combats of the Peninsula, where, at Wil- 
liamsburg, he led a regiment of infantry in the assault ; in the 
battles of Cold Harbour and Malvern Hill, at the second Ma- 
nassas, Sharpsburg, Fredericksburg, and the scores of minor 
engagements which marked almost every day upon the outposts. 
He missed the battle of Chancellorsville, greatly to his regret, 
having gone home, after an absence of two years, to witness the 
bombardment of Charleston and see his family. 

It was soon after his return in May that the fatal moment 
came which deprived the service of this eminent partisan. At 
the desperately contested battle of Fleetwood, in Culpeper county, 
on the 9th of June, 1863, he was sent by General Stuart to carry 
a message to Colonel Butler, of the 2d South Carolina cavalry. 
He had just delivered his message, and was sitting upon his 
horse by the Colonel, when a shell, which also wounded Butler, 
struck him upon the right knee and tore his leg in two at the 
joint. He fell from the saddle and was borne to an ambulance, 
where surgical assistance was promptly rendered. His wound 
was, however, mortal, and all saw that he was dying. 

At his own request the torn and bleeding member, with the 
cavalry boot still on, was put in the ambulance, and he was 
borne from the field. His strength slowly declined, but his 
consciousness remained. Meeting one whom he knew, he called 
him by name, and murmured, " I am almost gone." " He lingered 
but a few hours, and at twilight of that day the writer of these 
lines looked on him in his shroud — the pale, cold features calm 
and tranquil in their final sleep. 

He was clad in his new uniform coat, and looked every inch 
a soldier taking his last rest. He had delivered this coat to a 
lady of Culpeper, and said, " If anything hefalls me, wrap me in 
ihis and send me to my m.othery 



FARLEY "the SCOUT." 147 

Such was the end of the famous partisan. His death left a 
void M'hich it seemed impossible to filL His extraordinary 
career had become fully known, and a writer some months be- 
fore his death gave utterance to the sentiment of every one when 
he wrote : " The story — the plain, unvarnished story — of his 
career since the war began is like a tale of old romance. Such 
abnegation of self! Office and money both spurned, because 
they seemed to stand in the way of his duty. What thrilling 
incidents! What strength and courage! and what wonderful 
escapes I No wonder, as he rides by, we so often hear it ex- 
claimed, ' There goes the famous scout, Farley ! The army has 
no braver man, no purer patriot ! ' " 

We put on record here the following passage from the letter 
of a lady in Culpeper to his mother, giving, as it does, an out- 
line of the man, and bearing testimony in its simple words, 
warm from a woman's heart, to the affection which was felt for him : 

" My Dear Madam — I want you to know how we in Virginia 
admired, appreciated, and loved your son. Had he been her oion, 
Virginia could not have loved him more ; certainly she could 
not oiue him more — so long and so bravely had he fought upon 
her soil. He was particularly well known in this unfortunate 
part of the State, which has been, sometimes for months, overrun 
by our foes. Many fiimilies will miss his coming, so daring was 
he, and so much depended on by Greneral Stuart. He scouted a 
great deal alone in 'the enemy's lines, and was often the bearer 
of letters and messages from loved ones long unheard from. 
Often, when we have been cut off from all communication from 
our own people, he has been the first to come as the enemy were 
leaving, often galloping np when they were scarcely out of 
sight — always inspiring us with fresh hope and courage, his 
cheerful presence itself seeming to us a prophecy of good. 

"On Tuesday night, just one week before the battle in which 
he fell, he came here, about one o'clock at night. We were sur- 
prised and alarmed to see him, as a large party of the enemy 
had passed our very doors only a few hours before. When my 
aunt opened the door she found him sitting on the steps, his 



148 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

■head resting on bis hands, as if tired and sleepy. We asked 
him if he did not know the Yankees were near, ' Oh, yes,' he 
replied ; ' they have been chasing me, and compelled me to 
lengthen my ride considerably.' He came in, but said, ' I can- 
not rest with you long, as I must be riding all night.' We gave 
him some bread, honey and milk, which we knew he loved. He 
said he had been fasting since morning. ' Ah,' said he, ' this is 
just what I want.' He buckled on his pistols again before sit- 
ting down, and said laughingly to me, ' Lock the doors and listen 
well, for I'll never surrender.' We stood in the porch when he 
left, and watched him walk off briskly (he had come on foot, 
having left his horse in the woods). We hated to see him go 
out in the dark and rainy night-time ; but he went cheerfully, so 
willing was he to encounter danger, to endure hardships, 'to 
spend and be spent' in his country's service." 

To " spend and be spent " in the cause of the South was truly 
this brave spirit's chief delight. These are not idle words, but 
the truth, in relation to him. The writer of this page was long 
and intimately associated with him ; and so far from presenting 
an exaggerated picture of him, the incidents and extracts above 
given do him only partial justice. I never saw a braver man, 
nor one more modest. He had a peculiar refinement of feeling 
and bearing which stamped him a gentleman to the utmost fibre 
of his being. This delicacy of temperament was most notable ; 
and it would be difficult to describe the remarkable union of the 
most daring courage and the sweetest simplicity of demeanour in 
the young partisan. Greater simplicity and modesty were never 
seen in human bearing ; and so endearing were these traits of 
his character, that ladies and children — those infallible critics — 
were uniformly charmed with him. One of the latter wrote: 

'' His death has been a great sorrow to us. He was with us 
frequently the week before the battle, and woti our entire hearts 
by his many noble qualities, and his superiority to all around 
him. He talked much about his family; he loved them with 
entire devotion. He read to us some of your poems, and re- 
peated one of his own. I close my eyes, and memory brings 



FARLEY "the SCOUT." 1-19 

back to me the thrilling tones of that dear voice, which, though 
heard no more on earth, has added to the melody of heaven." 

His manner was the perfection of good-breeding, and you saw 
that the feraous partisan, whose exploits were the theme of every 
tongue, had not been raised, like others of his class, amid rude 
associates and scenes, but with gently nurtured women, and sur- 
rounded by the sweet amenities of home. His voice was a 
peculiar one — very low and distinct in its tones ; and these sub- 
dued inflections often produced upon the listener the impression 
that it was a habit acquired in scouting, when to speak above a 
murmur is dangerous. The low, clear words were habitually 
accompanied by a bright smile, and the young man was a favour- 
ite with all — so cordial was his bearing, so unassuming his whole 
demeanour. His personal appearance has already been described, 
but it may \nterest some of his friends in the far South to know 
how he appeared when "at work." He dressed uniformly in a 
plain suit of gray, wearing a jacket, and over this a dark blue 
overcoat, with a belt, holding his pistol, tightly drawn around 
his waist. In his hat he wore the black cavalry feather ; and his 
boots were of that handsome pattern which is worn by Federal 
officers, with patent-leather tops and ornamental thread-work. 
None of his equipments cost him or the Confederate States a 
single dollar. They were all captured — either from sutlers' 
wagons or the enemies he had slain with his own hand. I never 
knew him to purchase any portion of his own or his horse's 
accoutrements — saddle, bridle, halter, sabre, pistols, belt, carbine, 
spurs, were all captured from the enemy. His liorses were in 
the same category, and he rarely kept the same riding-horse 
long. They were with great regularity shot under him ; and he 
mounted the first he found running riderless, or from which his 
pistol hurled one of the enemy. 

ni. , 

I have spoken of his modest, almost shy demeanour. All 
this disappeared in action. His coolness remained unaffected, 
but he evidently felt himself in his proper element, and enticed 



150 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

r 

to direct others. At such moments his suggestions were boldly 
made, and not seldom resulted in the rout of the enemy. The 
cavalry once in motion, the quiet, modest gentleman was meta- 
morphosed into the fiery partisan. He would lead a charge 
with the reckless daring of Murat, and cheer on the men, with 
contagious ardour, amid the most furious storm of balls. 

Ilis disregard of personal exposure was supreme, and the idea 
that he was surrounded by peril never occurred to him. He 
has repeatedly told the present writer, with that simplicity and 
sincerity which produce conviction, that in action he was wholly 
unconscious of the balls and shells flying and bursting around 
him — that his interest in the general result was so strong as to 
cause him to lose sight of them. Those who knew him did not 
venture to doubt the assertion. 

He delighted in the wild charge, the clash of meeting squa- 
drons, and the roar of artillery. All these martial sights and 
sounds ministered to the passionate ardour of that temperament 
which made him most at home where balls were whistling, 
and the air oppressive with the odour of battle. But, I think, 
he even preferred the life of the scout — the long and noise- 
less hunt for his foe — the exercise of those faculties, by 
means of w^hich an enemy is surprised and destroyed — the sin- 
gle combat with sabre and pistol, often far off in the silence of 
the woods, where a dead body half concealed amid the grass is 
all that remains to tell the tale of some hand-to-hand encounter. 
The number of such contests through which Farley had passed 
would seem incredible to those who did not know him, and thus 
comprehend how the naked truth of his career beggared ro- 
mance. He rarely spoke of these affairs, and never, unless to cer- 
tain persons, and under peculiar circumstances. He had a great 
horror of appearing to boast of his own exploits, and so greatly 
feared securing the reputation of colouring his adventures that he 
seldom alluded to them, even. Fortunately for his memory, 
many persons witnessed his most desperate encounters, and still 
live to testify to the reckless daring of the young partisan. 
With these his eventful career will long remain the subject of 
fireside tales; and in the coming days of peace, when years 



FARLEY " THE SCOUT." 151 

have silvered the hair of his contemporaries, old men will tell 
their grand-children of his strange adventures and those noble 
traits which made his name so famous. 

To the world at large, he will always thus appear — as the 
daring partisan and adventurous scout — as one who risked his 
life in a hundred hot encounters, and in all those bloody scenes 
never quailed or shrank before a foe, however powerful or dan- 
gerous. But to those who lived with him — heard his low, 
friendly voice, and saw every day his bright kindly smile — he 
appears in a different character. To such the loss we have sus- 
tained is deeper — it seems irreparable. It was the good fortune 
of the writer of these lines to thus see the brave young man — 
to be beside him in the field ; and, at home, to share his confi- 
dence and friendship. Eiding through the summer forests, or 
wandering on across the fields of broom-straw, near Fredericks- 
burg — better still, beside the good log-fire of winter — we talked 
of a thousand things, and I saw what a wealth of kindness, chi- 
valry, and honour he possessed — how beautifully the elements 
were mixed in his character. Brave and true — simple and 
kind — he passed away ; and among those eminent natures 
which the writer encountered in the late struggle, few are re- 
membered with such admiration and afiection as this noble son 
of Carolina. 

The best conclusion of this brief and inadequate sketch will 
be the mention made of the brave partisan in General Stuart's 
report of the battle of Fleetwood. It is as follows : 

" Captain W. D. Farley, of South Carolina, a volunteer aide 
on my staff, was mortally wounded by the same shell which 
wounded Colonel Butler, and displayed even in death, the same 
loftiness of bearing and fortitude which characterized him 
through life. He had served, without emolument, long, faith- 
fully, and always with distinction. No nobler champion has 
fidlen. May his spirit abide with us." 



X. 

HARDEMAN STUART, 

THE YOUNG CAPTAIN OF THE SIGNAL CORPS. 



I. 

I NEVER knew a braver or lovelier spirit than Hardeman Stuart's. 
When the wave of war rolled over his young head and swept 
him awa}'', one of the truest gentlemen of the South disappeared. 

The old Greek dogma that the favourites of the gods die 
early, had in him another illustration. His figure moved before 
the eyes of those who loved him for a moment only ; his brave 
gay voice was heard ; his bright smile shone — then he flitted 
from the great arena like some youthful actor, who has played 
his allotted part, and is seen no more. 

It was not necessary to know him long to love him. He was 
with his Virginia comrades for a brief space only, but he soon 
won every heart. His kindness, his courage, his high-bred 
courtesy and delightful gaiety, made him the most charming of 
companions. Ev?ry one loved him. Indeed, to know him was 
to love him ; and since his death even strangers have spoken of 
him in terms of the warmest affection, so deeply had he impress- 
ed all who saw him. 

He was scarce twenty-one when he died, and in the flush of 
youth and joy and hope. He was a native of the great State of 
Mississippi, where hearts are warm and tempers impulsive. The 
bright sun of the farthest South seemed to have fired his blood ; 
and on the battle-field he fought with the gallantry and nerve, the 



HARDEMAN STUART. 153 

vigour and tlan of one of Napoleon's young heroes of the grand 
armee. 

His laughing face looked out on the world with an exquisite 
frankness; the lips were mobile, joyous, and expressive; the 
large, honest eyes met your own with smiles in their blue 
depths, which spoke the real character of the youth, I was first 
attracted toward the youthful stranger by the dash and nerve of 
his behaviour on the field. It was in the battle of Cold Har- 
bour, where he served as a volunteer upon the staff of General 
Stuart. He was the model of an aide-de-camp that day, and was 
specially mentioned in the general's official report for the valu- 
able services which he rendered. I saw him frequently on this 
occasion, and was struck with his great gallantry. Nothing 
could exceed the gay ardour of his bearing, the joyous abandon 
with which he threw himself into the contest, his ardent and 
complete performance of all duties assigned to him. He courted 
danger with a boyish gaiety which shone in his dancing eyes 
and on his smiling lips, and seemed to covet opportunities of 
exposing himself to the heaviest fire, in the thickest portion of 
the fight. No bullet touched him, however ; the shot and shell, 
bursting and plunging everywhere, seemed determined to avoid 
him and do him no harm. He came out of the battle gay, laugh- 
ing, and unharmed as he had entered it. At the " "White House," 
afterward, he went with Pelham in that boyish frolic, the chase 
of the gunboats, and then we rode back " all a summer's day " 
to the banks of the Chickahomiuy, conversing. The delightful 
gaiety of the boy made the long, hot miles of sandy highway 
slip away unseen ; and here I first obtained an insight into the 
character of the noble young Mississippian, before a stranger, 
but to be to me from that moment a valued friend. 

His gallantry during the battle had attracted attention, and he 
now secured, through his cousin. General Stuart, the commission 
of captain in the signal corps. He performed the duties of his 
rank with alacrity, and I had frequent opportunities of seeing 
and conversing with him. As I have said, to know him was to 
love him. There was so much candour and sincerity in his charac- 
ter, such a light-hearted gaietj'- and sweetness of temper, that he 



lo-i WEAKiyG OF THE GRAY, 

became a favourite even with those who saw with difficulty any 
merit in their brother men, and repelled all sentiments of liking 
for their fellow-creatures. Even the surly melted, and grew 
smiling as his cheerful voice saluted them, and I think the sour- 
est of curmudgeons would have done him a favour without being 
solicited. His voice had a special charm in its tones. It was what 
the French call caressante. In the accent and intonation of every 
word wdiich he uttered it was impossible not to discern the good- 
ness of his heart. Distress had never yet laid its heavy hand upon 
him, and he seemed as free from all knowledge or suspicion of 
human bitterness or xneanness. He looked into the face of the 
world with a smile full of friendl}^ regard, and the hard, cold w^orld 
relaxed in its scowl, and smiled back kindly in response. Sus- 
picion or misanthropy never' appeared to have visited him ; and 
living, as it were, in an atmosphere of joy and hope and youth- 
ful gaiety, he made all around him gay, and had the whole world 
for his friends. 

The brief season of respite from hostilities which followed the 
battles around Richmond soon came to an end. General Stuart 
broke up his headquarters in the old grassy yard of Hanover 
Court-house ; his bugle sounded to horse ; and the cavalry 
advanced to place itself on the right of the army about to give 
battle to Pope on the Rapidan, Here Hardeman Stuart left us, 

in performance of his duties as signal officer and I never saw 

him again but for a single moment. That meeting was on the 
field of Manassas, when the opposing lines were about to grap- 
ple ; w^hen the Southern army, hungry, weary, and travel- worn, 
but undaunted, was about to enter upon the decisive conflict with 
its old adversary. 

Going back in memory to that time, I recall with melancholy 
interest the little trifling details of this my last meeting and "hist 
greeting '' with Hardeman Stuart. I was riding, about noon, to 
the front of Longstreet's line in search of General Stuart. Under 
a tree, immediately in rear of his front line. General Longstreet 
had just dismounted, and was taking off a brown linen overall, 
the face of the " old war horse-" composed, good-natured, but 
'full of fight." Learning from him that General Stuart was 



HARDEMAN STUART. 155 

"just on the riglit of his line," I rode in that direction along 
the front of the infantry drawn up for battle ; the men kneeling 
on the left knee ; the bayonets bristling above ; finger on trig- 
ger ; eyes fixed intentl}^ on the crest in front over which the 
advancing enemy were about to appear, 

I went on, and in crossing a fallow of considerable ex'tent, 
passed one of those small wooden houses which dot the region 
around Manassas. Often as I beheld such spectacles, this melan- 
choly mansion attracted my attention. It was torn and dis- 
mantled — the huge besom of war seemed to have swept over it, 
sparing its very existence only from a sense of its insignificance. 
In the broken-down porch were some frightened 3'oung women, 
and crowds of soldiers had straggled up to cool their parched 
lips from a well in the yard. 

There were swarms of these crowding around the nearly 
exhausted well, and others basked in the sun with a careless air, 
which indicated natures callous to the coming battle. 

All this was taken in at a single glance, and I was galloping 
on, when suddenly I heard a voice which uttered my name. 

I drew up and turned around. As I did so, a form detached 
itself from the rest, came running toward me with the gay exclama- 
tion, " How d'ye. Captain ! " and I recognised Hardeman Stuart. 

But what a change ! He had always been the neatest person 
imaginable in his dress and appearance. His brown hair had 
always been carefullj^ parted and brushed, his boots as polished 
as assiduous rubbing could make them, and his new uniform coat, 
with its gay new braid, had been almost too nice and unwrinkled 
for a soldier. 

His appearance was in vivid contrast with all this. He was 
coatless, unwashed, his boots covered with dust; and his 
clothes had the dingy look of the real soldier, who is so often 
compelled to lie upon the ground, and to sleep in his apparel. 
His hair was unbrushed, and hung disordered around his face, 
and the gallant young captain of the Signal Corps had the 
appearance of a sapper and miner. 

But the face was unch.Tngcd — that was the same ; gay, 
ardent, joyous, as he held out his hand, and grasped mine with 



156 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

the same old friendly manner. The young captain was the 
image of martial energy and abandon. Tlie bright smile broke 
forth from his face like sunshine, and his cheerful voice as he 
greeted me was fall of the old kindly music. 

He was evidently overjoyed to see a familiar foce among all 
the strange ones around him, where the eye met only alien 
glances ; to press a friendly hand where none seemed ready to 
stretch forth and greet him. 

I can see the bright face now, as he turned it up and smiled ; 
hear the voice with its tones of boyish music as he related his 
misfortunes. He had posted himself upon a ridge with his 
detachment, and from his station was signalling the movements 
of the enemy, when a strong force surprised him, and compelled 
him to retire precipitately. 

So sudden was the attack that he was very nearly captured. 
His horse had been tied near ; the young officer's uniform coat, 
which he had taken off, from the heat of the weather, strapped 
behind the saddle — and there was no time to mount. He 
escaped in the woods with his men minus horse and coat ; but 
seemed' to regard the whole affair as an excellent jest, and only 
the ordinary "fortune of war." 

His gay laughter followed the narrative, and I remember the 
ardent light of the blue eyes looking out from the tangled 
curls of the brave bo3^ 

" Well, Hardeman, you have had bad luck," I said, "but get 
another horse and come on." 

"I intend to ; tell the Greneral I'll soon be there." 

"Yes." 

" Good-bye." 

I shook the brave hand and rode on. I was never more to 
touch it. 

I have scarcely the heart to continue my narrative and relate 
the sequel. Something affects the throat as you think of these 
dead comrades whose hands you have clasped, whose voices you 
have heard. Some of the sunshine left the world when they went, 
and life grows dull. 

Poor Hardeman ! But how can I call him poor f Rich, rather, 



HARDEiiAN STUART. 157 

beyond tbe wealth of kingdoms ; for lie died in the bloom of 
youth, before sorrow touched him, fighting for his native land. 

He did not succeed in procuring a horse, which is always dif- 
ficult just before a battle ; and his brave young soul revolted 
from inaction at that moment. He must take his part in the 
action, in one capacity if not in another ; if not as captain, then 
as private ; and this resolution was speedily carried out. Pro- 
curing a musket and cartridge-box — old friends of his before his 
promotion — he sought for his old Mississippi company, entered 
its ranks, charged with tliem, and fell, shot through the heart. 

He died where he fell, and sleeps in the weird path of Manas- 
sas. God rest his soul ! 

Such was the fate of Hardeman Stuart — an event which brought 
the tears to many eyes, albeit unused to the melting mood — 
and here my sketch might end. I will add, however, a some- 
what curious incident which occurred a day or two after the 
battle. 

General Stuart followed the enemy on Sunday, and coming 
up with his rear at the bridge over Cub Eun, had a slight artil- 
lery engagement, and took many prisoners. The bridge was 
destroyed and the cavalry turned to the left, and making a cir- 
cuit came into the Little River turnpike, at the mouth of the 
Frying Pan road. Proceeding down the turnpike in the direc- 
tion of Germantown, a scp.mdron captured a company of the 
enemy's cavalry ; and advancing further to a small tavern on the 
roadside, took prisoners another company who were feeding their 
horses in fancied security at the place. 

This cavalry formed a portion of that which had operated in 
the battles around Groveton ; and in possession of one of the 
men was found Hardeman Stuart's coat, captured with his horse 
and accoutrements on the mountain. 

There was no trouble at all in identifying the coat. In the 
breast pocket was his captain's commission. 



XI. 

JENNINGS WISE, 

THE CAPTAIN OF "THE BLUES.' 



I. 

T FOUND in an old portfolio, the other day, the following slip 
from a Norfolk paper of the year 1862 : 

" The Confederate steamer Arrow arrived here this morning, 
from Currituck, having communicated with a steamer sent down 
to Eoanoke Island under a flag of truce. She brought np the 
bodies of Captain 0. J. Wise, Lieutenant William Selden, and 
Captain Coles, Captain Wise was pierced by three balls, and 
Lieutenant Selden was shot through the head. The Yankees 
who saw Captain Wise during the fierce and unequal contest, 
declare that he displayed a gallantry and valour never surpassed. 
Alas, that he has fallen in a contest so unequal ! But who has 
fallen more honourably, more nobly ? Young Selden, too, died 
at his gun, while gallantly fighting the enemy that had gatliered 
in so superior numbers upon our shores. 

" Last night, when the steamer arrived at Currituck, General 
Wise directed that the coffin containing the remains of his son 
be opened. Then, I learn from those who were present, a scene 
transpired that words cannot describe. The old hero bent over 
the body of his son, on w4iose pale face the full moon threw its 
light, kissed the cold brow many times, and exclaimed, in an 
agony of emotion: 'Oh, my brave boy, you have died for me, 
you have died for me.' " 

What an epitaph ! 



JENNINGS WISE. 159 

The gray-haired father, forgetting the past and the future, los- 
ing sight, for the moment, of the war and all other things — 
bending and weeping over the dead body of the son who " had 
displayed a gallantry and valour never surpassed " — giving his 
heart's blood to the cause he loved — the annals of tragedy con- 
tain no spectacle more touching ! 

Of the remarkable young man who thus poured forth his 
blood, and passed away, before the age of thirty, in defence of 
his native soil, I propose to give a few personal recollections. 
It is hard that a noble soul should go from the haunts of the 
living, to be remembered only by the small circle of loving 
friends who knew and appreciated him. And though I shall 
not attempt anything in the shape of a memoir of young Jen- 
nings Wise, my few words may not prove uninteresting to those 
who watched, from a distance, his meteoric career, and perhaps 
admired his brave spirit, while ignorance of his real character 
led them to misunderstand him. 

Jennings Wise ! 

How many memories that name recalls ! — memories of gen- 
tleness and chivalrj'^, and lofty honour, to those who knew him 
truly — of fancied arrogance and haughty pride, and bloody in- 
stincts, to those who accepted common rumour for tlieir estimate 
of him. For there were many rumours of this description 
afloat — and it must be acknowledged that there was some excuse 
for the misconception. He had little of the spirit of conciliation 
if he believed a man to be his foe ; managed early to arouse bit- 
ter enmities ; and continued to defy his opponents without 
deigning to explain his character or his motives. Before he was 
better understood — when the mists were only beginning to clear 
away, and show his virtues of devotion, and patriotism, and 
kindness — death called him. 

Born in Virginia, and going in his early manhood to Europe, 
as Secretary of Legation, he there perfected himself in riding, 
fencing, and all manly exercises ; studying political science, and 
training himself, consciously or unconsciously, for the arena upon 
which he was to enter soon after his return. He came to Yir- 
ginia at a time when the atmosi^here was stifling with the hqat 



160 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

of contending factions in politics, and becoming the chief editor 
of the Kichmond Enqiiirer^ plunged into the struggle with all 
the ardour of a young and ambitious soldier who essays to test 
the use of those arms he has been long burnishing for battle. 
He did not lack for opponents, for a great .contest was raging, 
and the minds of men were red-hot with the mighty issues of 
the time. He had scarce thrown down the glove when many 
hands wel^e extended to take it up. Then commenced a strife 
on the political arena, in which the opponents fought each other 
with bitter and passionate vehemence. What the pen wrote, the 
pistol, unhappily, was too often called upon to support ; and the 
young politician was ere long engaged in more than one duel, 
which achieved for him a widely-extended notoriety and a ve- 
nomous party hatred. Of these quarrels I do not design to speak. 
It is no part of my purpose to inquire who was to blame or who 
was faultless ; and I would not move the ashes resting now upon 
the details of those unhappy affairs, under which the fire per- 
haps still smoulders, full of old enmities. That he was carried 
away by passion often, is unfortunately too true ; but he had no 
love for conflict, and publicl}^ declared his aversion to "private 
war." Unhappily the minds of his political opponents were too 
profoundly swayed by the passions of the epoch to give him 
credit for these declarations. They were not listened to, and the 
young politician became the mark of extreme political hatred. 
The sins of passion and the heated arena were regarded as the 
coolly planned and deliberately designed crimes of a moral mon- 
ster, who had never felt the emotion of pity or love for his 
brother man. Intelligent and honourable persons believed that 
all the young man's instincts were cruel ; that his hatreds were 
capricious and implacable ; that his nature was that of the tiger, 
thirsting for blood ; his conscience paralysed or warped by a 
terrible moral disease. His splendid oratorj'-, his trenchant 
pen, the dash and courage of his nature, were, allowed ; but 
these wer« his only " good gifts ; " he was, they said, the Ishmael 
of the modern world. 

All this he knew, and he continued his career, trusting to 
time. Hg fought for secession ; joined the First Virginia Eegi- 



JENNINGS WISE. 161 

ment, and served at Charlestown, in the John Brown raid. 
Then war came in due time. He was elected captain of the 
Blues — the oldest volunteer company in Virginia — took the 
leadership from the first, as one born to command, and fought 
and fell at that bloody Eoanoke fight, at the head of his com- 
pany, and cheering on his men. 

His body was brought back to Eichmond, laid in the capitol, 
and buried, in presence of a great concourse of mourners, in 
Hollywood Cemetery. That was the end of the brief young 
life — death in defence of his native land, and a grave in the be- 
loved soil, by the side of the great river, and the ashes of Mon- 
roe, brought thither by himself and his associates. 

Then carne a revulsion. His character was better understood ; 
his faults were forgotten ; his virtues recognised. Even his old 
opponents hastened to express their sympathy and admiration. 
It was remembered that more than once he had refused to return 
his adversary's fire ; that championship of one whom he loved 
more than life had inflamed his enmity — no merely selfish con- 
siderations. His sweetness of temper and kindness were re- 
called by many, and the eyes which had been bent upon him 
with horror or hatred, shed tears beside the young soldier's 
grave. 

Oh, tardy justice of good men ! Oh, laurel-wreath upon the 
coflBn ! — soft words spoken in the dull, cold ear of death ! This 
soul of chivalry and honour — this gentle, kindly, simple heart — 
had been branded as the enemy of his species — as a haughty, 
soulless, pitiless monster ! 

In speaking of this young Virginian, I wish to espouse no 
personal or party quarrel — to arouse none of those enmities 
which sleep now — to open no old wounds, and to fan into flame 
none of the heart-burnings of the past. Those who contended 
with him most bitterly have long ago forgotten their feud. 
Many shed tears for the noble youth when he fell, and speak of 
him now as one of those great Virginians whom it is the pride 
of our soil to have produced. They know him better now, and 
understand that this man was no hater of his species — no Ish- 
mael of civilization, cold and haughty and implacable — but a 

11 



162 WEAKING OF THE GRAY. 

beautiful and noble nature, attuned to every honourable impulse, 
and only embittered temporarily by party passion. Dying, lie 
has suffered change ; and there is a beauty in the pale, cold face, 
which it never possessed while living. Traits never suspected 
come out now, when Death has stamped the countenance with 
his melancholy seal ; and love and pity have quite banished the 
old scorn and hatred. The green grass on his grave has covered 
all enmity, and the love of friends has taken the place of the 
bitterness of foes. 

Among those friends who knew and loved him living, I count 
myself. To know him thus was speedily to love him — for his 
traits and instincts were so conspicuously noble and endearing, 
that he irresistibly attracted the affection of all who were thrown 
in familiar contact with him. How gentle, modest, and unas- 
suming these inner instincts of his heart were, those who knew 
him in his private life will bear witness. They will tell you of 
his honest and truthful nature ; his unpretending simplicity ; 
his chivalric impulses, and nobility of feeling. Indeed, you 
would have said that the Creator had breathed into this clay the 
loveliest traits of humanity, and raised up in the prosaic nine- 
teenth century a " good knight" of old days, to show the love- 
liness of honour. 

This was one side of the young man's character, only. With 
these softer traits were mingled some of the hardiest endowments 
of strong manhood. No man was ever braver. Indeed, his 
nerve had in it something antique and splendid, as of the elder 
days of chivalry, when neither monster nor magician, giant nor 
winged dragon, could make the heart of the good knight quail, 
or move him from his steadfast purpose. What in other men 
was the courage of habit, or training, or calculation of forces, was 
in him that of native endowment and birthright. To match 
himself, if need be, against any odds, however overwhelming, 
and breast all opposition with a stubborn, dauntless front, was to 
act as his character dictated, and to follow his temperament. The 
sentiment of fear, I believe, never entered his breast ; if it did, it 
never stayed there long enough for him to make its acquaintance. 
He would have led the charge of the English cavalry at Bala- 



JENNINGS WISE. 163 

klava witli the nerve and dash of Hotspur, glorying in the roar 
of the enemy's artillery, and resolute to take their guns or die. 
At Thermopylae, he would have stood beside Leonidas, and fought 
and died without the shudder of a nerve. In battle at the head 
of his men, his coolness and resolution were invincible. The 
grim front of war possessed no terrors for him,and he advanced into 
the gulf of battle with the calmness of a holiday soldier on parade. 

II. 

He was early in the lists as the advocate of resistance to the 
North, and fought its opponents with persistent vehemence. To 
"wait" was to sign the death-warrant of the State, he declared, 
" God save the liberties of this brave old Commonwealth ! " if 
this was the course defined for her. What he preached he prac- 
tised. " He sounded the onset, and the lines once in motion, he 
took his place in the great army. At first as a private, with 
musket on shoulder; eager, active, untiring; inspiring all with 
his own brave spirit. Then, when his acknowledged capacity 
for leadership placed him at the head of a command, he took the 
post as his of right, and led his men as all who knew him ex- 
pected. How he led them on that disastrous day at Roanoke — 
with what heroic nerve, and splendid gallantry, in the face of 
the deadliest fire — let his old comrades in arms declare. There, 
in the front of battle, he fell — giving his life without a single • 
regret to the cause he loved. 

It was the phase of character, indicated above, which the 
outer world chiefly considered, and estimated him by. Yet 
this was by no means his most attractive phase. The daunt- 
less nerve, the stubborn and indomitable will, revealed them- 
selves on certain occasions only — the social virtues of the indi- 
vidual were seen every day. It would be difficult to imagine 
a human being more modest, kindly, and simple. His modesty 
amounted almost to shyness ; and it was doubtless this species 
of reserve which led many to regard him as cold, and desti- 
tute of feeling. Let it not be understood, however, that he was 
subject to mauvaise honte — the diffidence of one who distrusts 
his own powers, and shrinks from collision with other minds. 



1^4 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

His peculiarity was rather the reverse, as his perfect self-posses- 
sion and control of every faculty in public speaking indicated. 
Self-reliance, rather than self-distrust, marked the character of 
his intellect — boldness to undertake, and unshrinking courage to 
execute. But in this there was no arrogance — no hauteur. In 
the combat he would contend with all his powers, and shrink 
from no odds : but the contest once over, the hot blood cool, the 
old modesty returned, and the kindly, gentle smile. The indul- 
gence of his affections was evidently one of his chief happinesses. 
He was fond of children, and delighted to play with them, shar- 
ing their gambols and amusements with the bonhomie and aban- 
don of a boy. In such scenes, the vehement young politician no 
doubt took refuge from the strife of the public arena, where so 
many hot passions met and clashed, and found in the playful 
antics of children the antidote to the scorns and hatreds of those 
grown-up children — men. It was in the society of the eminent 
Virginian, his father, howeVer, that he seemed to experience his 
greatest happiness ; and his devotion to him was the controlling 
sentiment of his being. If this sentiment impelled him to a par- 
tisanship too violent at times, the fault will not be regarded as a 
mean or ignoble one, nor detract in any measure from the 
character here attributed to him, of the kindest and simplest of 
gentlemen. 

The intellect which accompanied this courageous spirit and 
kindly heart was eminently vigorous and original. It was rather 
that of the actor than the thinker — rather, ready, acute, inven- 
tive and fruitful in resources — quick to move and to strike, in 
debate or reasoning with the pen — than deliberate, philosophic, 
or reflective. It wanted the breadth and depth which result 
from study and meditation, but as a sharp and tempered weapon 
to accomplish direct tangible results, it was exceedingly forcible 
and effective. As a writer in the larger acceptation of the term, 
he was not conspicuously endowed ; but his style- as a journalist 
was fluent, eloquent, and when his nature was strongly moved, 
full of power and the fire of invective. Some of his editorial 
writings deserve to be collected, and preserved in a permanent 
form, as among the most forcible expositions of the great princi- 



JENNINGS WISE. 165 

pies involved in the struggle whicli absorbed the energies of the 
South. 

His most notable gift was unquestionably that of oratory. He 
possessed native endowments which entitled him to very high 
rank as a public speaker. In the columns of a daily journal his 
powers were always more or less cramped, and did not assert 
their full strength, but on " the stump " he was in his own ele- 
ment. Here all the faculties of his intellect and nature had full 
swing, and " ample room and verge enough " for their exercise. 
The spectator saw at a glance that the young man with the thin 
slight figure and quiet manner, was a born orator. His first 
words justified the opinion, and stamped him as one born to 
move, to sway, to direct the thoughts and the actions of men. 
The crowd — that unfailing critic of a public speaker's ability — 
always received him with acclamations, and hailed his appear- 
ance on the rostrum with loud applause. They felt that, youth 
as he was, and as yet untrained in the arts of the orator, he was 
a match for the oldest opponents, and they were content to leave 
the advocacy of great principles, at momentous crises, in the 
hands of this young man — to accept and rely on him as their 
champion. 

He did not disappoint their expectations ever. A born politi- 
cian, and thrilling with the great party issues before the country, 
he entered the arena with the bold and self-possessed demeanour 
of one in his chosen element, and equal to the occasion. Politi- 
cal history — the careers of public men — the principles underly- 
ing the American frame of government — all were thoroughly 
familiar to him, and his knowledge was available at a moment's 
notice. His speeches were skilful combinations of philosophic 
reasoning and hard-hitting illustrations. In the employment of 
invective, his handling was that of a master ; and when his scorn 
of some unworthy action or character was fully aroused, his de- 
livery of the scathing sarcasm or the passionate defiance was 
inexpressibly vehement and bitter. Those who have seen the 
flashing eye and the scornful lip of the young orator at such 
times, will not readily forget them, or wonder at the wild ex- 
citement of the crowd as they listened to these outbursts. Even 



166 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

the cool intellects of old men were taken captive with the rest, 
and I think all who heard the youthful speaker, came away with 
the impression that time and training only were needed, to make 
him one of the most famous orators of the old Commonwealth 
which has produced so many giants, 

With the termination of his speeches disappeared all the pas- 
sion, vehemence, and ardour of the man. The handkerchief 
passed over the damp brow, seemed to wipe away all excite- 
ment ; and the fiery gladiator, swaying all minds by his fierce 
invective, or his vivid reasoning, subsided into the quiet, almost 
shy young man. The old modesty and simplicity of demeanour 
returned, and the forces of the vigorous intellect returned to 
rest, until some other occasion should call them into exercise. 

I could add many things relating to this eminent young man 
in his personal and private character, but the subject may not 
iuterest the general reader as much as it does him who writes. 
Perhaps, too, they are better kept for other years, when time 
shall have extinguished the few heart-burnings that remain, and 
obliterated the scars of old contests. I have thought it right, 
however, to put thus much concerning him on record, without 
shaping my discourse to please either friend or foe. Foes, I 
believe, he has no longer. Even those who most bitterly op- 
posed him while living, now acknowledge his great qualities, 
and lament his untimely end. 

If enmity exist toward him in any heart, however, no answer- 
ing defiance comes back. TIk^ weapon of the good knight will 
never more be drawn — he has fought his last battle and yielded 
up his soul. He sleeps now quietly, after all the turmoils of 
life — after heart-burnings and triumphs, and loves and hatreds — 
sleeps in the bosom of the land he loved, and toiled, and thought, 
and fought, and died for. His is not the least worthy heart 
which has poured out its blood for Virginia and the South ; and 
in the pages of our annals, among the names of our dead heroes 
who surrendered youth, and coming fame, and friends, and home, 
and life for their native land — surrendered them without a mur- 
mur or a single regret — among these great souls the Genius of 
History must inscribe the name of Jennings Wise. 



PART II. 

IN THE CAVALKY. 



The infantry and the artillery of an army live and move and 
have their being in a sphere widely different from that of the 
cavalry. 

The first named arms of the service perform the " heavy 
work" in the great pitched battles. When armies face each 
other, and the moment has come for a final trial of strength, it 
is the infantry and artillery to which a commander looks. When 
the sun rises on one of these days of history, the foot-soldier 
or the cannoneer feels that all his energies will be required. 
If he falls he falls ; but if the enemy's bullets spare him, he can 
look for rest on the morrow — for a great pitched battle decides 
everything. The column may advance or retire, but it seldom 
fights very heavily thereafter. The weather, too, counts greatly 
for or against active service with the artillery or infantry — the 
winter is fatal. Then the wheels of the guns sink in the slushy 
soil ; wagons cannot move with rations ; and thus conquered by 
the rain and snow, the cannoneers and musket-bearers settle 
down in their comfortable camps, build their log-cabins, or their 
arbours of boughs ; and days, and weeks, and months pass by 
in perfect quiet, until the spring sun dries the roads, and the 
thunder of artillery and musketry again roars across the fields 
of May or June. 

Thus the gunners and footmen bear the brunt in the great 
battles, to retire thereafter to camp and rest. Their ranks may 
be decimated, but those who survive enjoy something like re- 
pose. They build their chimneys, broil their meat, smOke their 
pipes, and lounge, and laugh, and sing around the camp-fire, 
with " none to make them afraid." 

The life of the cavalry is different. They do not perform the 
hard work in the conflicts of armies, where the improved fire- 
arms of modern times would speedily destroy their horses — and 



170 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

iiorses were beyond the value of gold, almost, to the South in the 
recent war — nor are the losses of the cavalry in any one engage- 
ment as great as those of the infantry. But the work performed 
by the mounted men of an army is incessant. They fight 
throughout the year — in winter as in summer — when the ground 
is a quagmire, as when it is firm. They cannot rest, from the 
very nature of things, for they are the " eyes and ears " of an 
army. Their duty is to watch — and to watch, the cavalier must 
be in the saddle with carbine ready. He must watch by night 
as well as day ; for night is the season of surprises, and to 
guard the army against surprise is the chief duty of the cavalry. 
Seeing the long column falling slowly back on days of conclu- 
sive battle, the infantry are apt to sneer, and think, if they do 
not say — and they say it often — " We do the hard fighting, the 
cavalry the fancy work ! " or, " Here comes the cavalry, going 
to the rear — a fight is on hand ! " They forget, however, one 
thing — that while the infantry has been resting in camp, with 
regular rations and sound sleep, the cavalry have been day and 
night in the saddle, without rations at all, watching and fighting 
all along the front. Let justice be done to all ; and it is not the 
noble infantry or artillery of the late army of Northern Vir- 
ginia who will be guilty of injustice to their brethren of the 
cavalry, who, under Stuart, Ashby, Hampton, and the Lees, did 
that long, hard work, leaving Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsyl- 
vania strewed with their dead bodies. 

But a comparison of the relative value of the different arms 
was not the writer's purpose. His aim was to point out the 
contrast which exists in the mere mode of living. The foot- 
soldier is confined to his camp for the greater portion of the 
time, and sameness rather than variety, common-place rather 
than incident, marks his days. In the cavalry this does not 
exist. As there is no rest for the cavalry-man, so there is no 
dull routine — no " every day the same." His life is full of 
movement, variety, incident, and adventure ; he is ever in the 
saddle, and fighting, either as a unit of the long drawn column, 
advancing or retiring with the army, or in scouts and skirmishes 
— the theatre of his work shifts quietly as do the .scenes of a 



IN THE CAVALRY. 171 

drama on the stage. All that makes the hard and brutal trade 
of war endurable seems to gather around him, wreathing with 
brilliant flowers the keen edge of the sabre. 

The bugle sounding " Boots and saddles ! " and then " To 
horse ! " replaces the drum. " To horse and away ! " is the 
cavalry motto. Once in the saddle and moving, his life of quick 
transitions, odd experiences, and perilous or grotesque adven- 
tures, begins in earnest. There is a "glorious uncertainty" 
about his movements which is not without a singular charm. 
He is not so much a common soldier, as a gay knight-errant, 
knowing not where he may lay his head at the end of his day's 
journey — certain only that it will not be beneath the shelter of 
a tent, nor with any regular ration upon which to stay his 
hunger. The infantry and artillery have wagons and rations ; 
and theoretically the cavalry have also — but only in theory. 
They are never " up " — these dilatory wagons — and as to tents, 
those are a luxury of which the cavalry-man seldom even 
dreams. The blanket behind his saddle is his tent ; he lies 
down by the bivouac fire supperless often ; neither quarter-mas- 
ter nor commissary favours him ; and when he " forages " for 
food, he is denounced as a " straggler." 

But the cavalry-man accepts philosophically the uncompli- 
mentary opinion entertained of him, in view of the certain 
charms of his existence. He is the child of adventure, roaming 
the fields and forests, and revelling in his freedom. He knows 
whence he comes, but not whither the winds will waft him. He is 
never at rest ; never certain what the next hour, nay, the coming 
moment, will bring forth. At any instant may come a surprise, 
an attack, the bang of carbines, the clash of sabres — and then, 
pursuit or retreat, defeat or victory. If he falls, he falls ; if he 
survives, he sleeps serenely, wrapped up in his blanket, the root 
of a tree or a saddle for a pillow, overhead " the canopy," all 
studded with the fires of night, and dreams of scenes and faces 
far away. 

Such a life is ever fresh, and possesses never-ending attrac- 
tions. • To-day an exhausting march and a heavy fight — to-mor- 
row rest, and stories, and jests, and laughter; one day a feast 



172. WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

of the rarest — the next a famine of the sorest. To ride on, hour 
after hour, through the gloom of night, until the frame is weary 
unto death, and the cavalry-man totters in the saddle for very 
exhaustion and sleeplessness — that is not pleasant. But then 
^leep is magical when he halts at last ; food is ambrosial when 
he broils his chance slice of bacon on the end of a stick in the 
blaze of the camp-fire ! 

To the cavalry-man belongs the fresh life of the forest — the 
wandering existence which brings back the days of old romance. 
Do you wish to form some conception of the life of that model 
cavalry-man and gentleman, Don Quixote ? To do so, you have 
only to "join the cavalry." Like the Don, your cavalry -man 
goes through the land in search of adventures, and finds many. 
He penetrates retired localities — odd, unknown nooks — meeting 
with curious characters and out-of-the-way experiences, which 
would make the fortune of a romance writer. Here, far away 
from the rushing world and the clash of arms, he finds bright 
faces, and is welcomed by " heaven's last best gift" — for woman 
is ever the guardian angel of the soldier. She smiles upon him 
when he is gloomy ; feeds him when he is hungry ; and it is 
often the musical laughter of a girl which the cavalry -man hears 
as he rides on musing — not the rattle of his miserable sabre ! 
Thus romance, sentiment, and poetry meet him everywhere. And 
is he fond of the grotesque ? That meets him, too, in a thou- 
sand places. Of the pathetic? Ah! that salutes him often on 
the fierce arena of war ! Thus, living a fresh life, full of vivid 
emotions, he passes his days and nights, till the fatal bullet 
comes — laughing, fighting, feasting, starving, to the end. 

His life is better than a collegiate education, for it teaches 
him the mysteries of human nature. He does not pass his days 
amid social circles, marked by respectable uniformity and madden- 
ing common-place, but is thrown in contact with every species of 
" moving accident," every variety of the human species; scouts, 
" guerillas," secret agents, prisoners, night-hawks, spies, friends 
in blue coats, enemies in gray — all that the highways and the 
byways, the fields, the forests, and the day and the night con- 
tain, pass before the eyes of the cavalry-man. He sees the 



IN THE CAVALRY. 1,3 

adventurous life of the ranger and partisan, bears the ring of 
the sabre, the crack of sharpshooters, the roar of cannon, and 
the shouts of the squadrons as they charge. His is the existence 
of the rover : the sudden peril, the narrow escape, and the fun 
and frolic of the bivouac. When he summons his recollections, 
it is not so much the " great events" of war as its pictures and 
incidents of which he discourses. He revives its romantic 
scenes and gay adventures, only — remembering its smiles, sighs, 
laughter, tears, its gloom or sunlight, as it actually lowered or 
shone. The writer of this eulogy has carried a musket, albeit 
he never did hard work with it ; has served in the artillery, and 
loves it, as he honours the great arm which thundered upon 
every battle-field, and held the rear, all along the Valley, against 
Sheridan, and fired the last gun of the war at Appomatox. It 
is simply not possible that he could utter a word against those 
heroes of the infantry and artillery whom he is proud to call 
his comrades ; but he remembers with most interest and pleasure 
the gay days when he "followed the feather" of Stuart, that 
Jieur des chevaliers. In the saddle, near that good knight of the 
nineteenth century, war became a splendid drama, rather than 
mere bloody work ; a great stage, whereon the scenes were ever 
shifting, and the "exits "were all made to the sound of the 
bugle ! That sound was stirring ; and recalling now his various 
experiences, the writer of this page hears the ring of the bugle, 
not the roll of the drum ; remembers the life of the cavalry 
rather than that of the infantry or the artillery. 

Some of these memories are here recorded. The narratives 
are necessarily egotistical in appearance, since the writer was 
compelled to speak of what he saw in person, not by others' 
eyes, to give any value to his recollections. The reader is 
solicited, however, to regard this circumstance as unavoidable, 
and further to believe that a fondness for making himself con- 
spicuous is not a trait of the writer's character. For the rest, 
the pictures he has drawn are accurate, as far as his ability has 
enabled him to present figures and events in their real colours. 
If the record is dull, it is the dulness of truth, not the stupidity 
of a bad romance. 



STUART'S 

"ride around M'CLELLAN " IN JUNE, 1862. 



I. 

Who that went with Stuart on his famous " Eide around 
McClellan " in the summer of 1862, just before the bloody 
battles of the Chickahominy, will ever forget the fun, the frolic, 
the romance — and the peril too — of that fine journey? Think- 
ing of the g^y ride now, when a century seems to have swept 
between that epoch and the present, I recall every particular, 
live over every emotion. Once more I hear the ringing laugh of 
Stuart, and see the keen flash of the blue eyes under the black 
feather of the prince of cavaliers ! » 

If the reader will follow me he shall see what took place on 
this rapid ride, witness some incidents of this first and king of 
raids. The record will be that of an eye-witness, and the per- 
sonal prominence of the writer must be excused as inseparable 
from the narrative. I need not dwell upon the " situation " in 
June, 1862. All the world knows that, at that time, McClellan 
had advanced with his magnificent army of 156,000 men, to the 
banks of the Chickahominy, and pushing across, had fought on 
the last day of May the bloody but indecisive battle of the Seven 
Pines. On the right it was a Confederate, on the left a Federal 
success ; and General McClellan drew back, marshalled his great 
lines, darkening both the northern and southern banks of the 
Chickahominy, and prepared for a more decisive blow at the 
Confederate capital, whose spires were in sight. Before him, 



stuakt's "ride around m'clellan." 175 

however, lay the Southern army, commanded now by Lee, who 
had succeeded Johnston, wounded in the fight of " Seven Pines." 
The moment was favourable for a heavy attack by Lee. Jack- 
son had just driven before him the combined forces of Shields 
and Fremont, and on the bloody field of Port Republic ended 
the great campaign of the Valley at one blow. The veterabs of 
his command could now be concentrated on the banks of the 
Chickahominy against McClellan ; a combined advance of the 
forces under Lee and Jackson might save the capital. But how 
should the attack be made ? Li council of war, General Stuart 
told me he proposed an assault upon Greneral McClellan's left 
wing from the direction of James River, to cut him off from that 
base. But this suggestion was not adopted ; the defences were 
regarded as too strong. It was considered a better plan to attack 
the Federal army on the north bank of the Chickahominy, drive 
it from its w^orks, and try the issue in the fields around Cold 
Harbour. The great point was to ascertain if this was practica- 
ble, and especially to find what defences, if any, the enemy had 
to guard the approach to their right wing. If these were slight, 
the attack could be made with fair prospects of success. Jackson 
could sweep around while Lee assailed the lines near Mechanics- 
ville ; then one combined assault would probably defeat the 
Federal force. To find the character of the enemy's works 
beyond the stream — his positions and movements — General 
Stuart was directed to take a portion of his cavalry, advance as 
far as Old Church, if practicable, and then be guided by circum- 
stances. Such were the orders with which Stuart set out about 
moonrise on the night, I think, of June 12, upon this dangerous 
expedition. 

As the young cavalier mounted his horse on that moonlight 
night he was a gallant figure to look at. The gray coat buttoned 
to the chin ; the light French sabre balanced by the pistol in its 
black holster; the cavalry boots above the knee, and the brown 
hat with its black plume floating above the bearded features, 
the brilliant eyes, and the huge moustache, which curled with 
laughter at the slightest provocation — these made Stuart the per- 
fect picture of a gay cavalier, and the spirited horse he rode 



176 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

seemed to feel that he carried one whose motto was to "do or 
die." I chanced to be his sole companion as he galloped over 
the broad field near his headquarters, and the glance of the blue 
eyes of Stuart at that moment was as brilliant as the lightning 
itself 

Catching up with his column of about 1500 horsemen, and 
two pieces of horse-artillery under Colonels William H. F. Lee, 
Fitz Lee, and Will. T. Martin, of Mississippi — cavalier as brave 
as ever drew sabre — Stuart pushed on northward as if going to 
join Jackson, and reaching the vicinity of Taylorsville, near 
Hanover Junction, went that night into bivouac. He embraced 
the opportunity, after midnight, of riding with Colonel W. H. 
F. Lee to " Hickory Hill," the residence of Colonel Williams 
Wickham — afterward General Wickham — who had been re- 
cently wounded and paroled. Here he went to sleep in his 
chair after talking with Colonel Wickham, narrowly escaped 
capture from the enemy near, and returning before daylight, 
advanced with his column straight upon Hanover Court-House, 
Have you ever visited this picturesque spot, reader ? We looked 
upon it on that day of June — upon its old brick court-house, 
where Patrick Henry made his famous speech against the par- 
sons, its ancient tavern, its modest roofs, the whole surrounded 
by the fertile fields waving with golden grain — all this we looked 
at with unusual interest. For in this little bird's nest, lost as it 
were in a sea of rippling wheat and waving foliage, some "Yan- 
kee cavalry " had taken up their abode ; their horses stood 
ready saddled in the street, and this dark mass we now gazed at 
furtively from behind a wooden knoll, in rear of which Stuart's 
column was drawn up ready to move at the word. Before he 
gave the signal, the General dispatched Colonel Fitz Lee round 
to the right, to flank and cut off the party. But all at once the 
scouts in front were descried by the enemy ; shots resounded ; 
and seeing that his presence was discovered, Stuart gave the 
word, and swept at a thundering gallop down the hill. The 
startled " blue birds," as we used to call our Northern friends, 
did not wait; the squadron on picket at the court-house, num- 
bering some one hundred and fifty men, hastily got to horse — 




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Stuart's " ride around m'clellan." 177 

tlien presto ! they disappear in a dense cloud of dust from which 
echo some parting salutes from their carbines. Stuart pressed 
on rapidly, took the road to Old Church, and near a place called 
Hawes' Shop, in a thickly wooded spot, was suddenly charged 
himself. It did not amount to much, and seemed rather an 
attempt at reconnoissance. A Federal ofi&cer at the head of a 
detachment came on at full gallop, very nearly ran into the head 
of our column, and then seeing the dense mass of gray coats, 
fired his pistol, wheeled short about, and went back at full speed, 
with his detachment. 

Stuart had gi^en, in his ringing voice, the order: "Form 
fours I draw sabre ! charge ! " and now the Confederate people 
pursued at headlong speed, uttering shouts and yells sufficiently 
loud to awaken the seven sleepers ! The men were evidently 
exhilarated by the chase, the enemy just keeping near enough 
to make an occasional shot practicable. A considerable number 
of the Federal cavalrymen were overtaken and captured, and 
these proved to belong to the company in which Colonel Fitz 
Lee had formerly been a lieutenant. I could not refrain from 
laughter at the pleasure which "Colonel Fitz" — whose motto 
should be ^^ loujours gaV — seemed to take in inquiring after his 
old cronies. "Was Brown alive? where was Jones? and was 
Robinson sergeant still?" Colonel Fitz never stopped until he 
found out everything. The prisoners laughed as they recog- 
nised him. Altogether, reader, the interview was the most 
friendly imaginable. 

The gay chase continued until we reached the Tottapotamoi, a 
sluggish stream, dragging its muddy waters slowly between 
rush-clad banks, beneath drooping trees; and this was crossed 
by a small rustic bridge. The line of the stream was entirely 
undefended by works ; the enemy's right wing was unprotected ; 
Stuart had accomplished the object of his expedition, and after- 
ward piloted Jackson over this very same road. But to con- 
tinue the narrative of his movements. The picket at the bridge 
had been quickly driven in, and disappeared at a gallop, and on 
the high ground beyond, Colonel W. H. F. Lee, who had taken 
the front, .encountered the enemy. The force appeared to be 

12 



178 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

about a regiment, and they were drawn up in line of battle in 
the fields to receive our attack. It came without delay. Plac- 
ing himself at the head of his horsemen, Colonel Lee swept for- 
ward at the pas de charge^ and with shouts the two lines came 
together. The shock was heavy, and the enemy— a portion of 
the old United States Eegulars, commanded by Captain Royal — 
stood their ground bravely, meeting the attack with the sabre. 
Swords clashed, pistols and carbines banged, yells, shouts, cheers 
resounded ; then the Federal line was seen to give back, and 
take to headlong flight. They were pursued with ardour, and 
the men were wild with this — to many of them — their first fight. 
But soon after all joy disappeared from their faces, at sight of a 
spectacle which greeted them. Captain Latane, of the Essex 
cavalry, had been mortally wounded in the charge, and as the 
men of his company saw him lying bloody before them, many a 
bearded face was wet with tears. The scene at his grave after- 
ward became the subject of Mr. Washington's picture, "The 
Burial of Latane ; " and in his general order after the expedition, 
Stuart called upon his command to take for their watchword in 
the future ^^ Avenge Latane!''^ Captain Royal, the Federal com- 
mandant, had also been badly wounded, and many of his force 
killed. I remember passing a Dutch cavalryman who was 
writhing with a bullet through the breast, and biting and tearing 
up the ground. He called for water, and I directed a servant 
at a house near by to bring him some. The last I saw of him, 
a destitute cavalryman was taking off his spurs as he was dying. 
War is a hard trade. 

Fitz Lee immediately pressed on and burst into the camp 
near Old Church, where large supplies of boots, pistols, liquors, 
and other commodities were found. These were speedily appro- 
priated by the men, and the tents were set on fire amid loud 
shouts. The spectacle was animating ; but a report having 
got abroad that one of the tents contained powder, the vicinity 
thereof was evacuated in almost less than no time. We were 
now at Old Church, where Stuart was to be guided in his further 
movements by circumstances. I looked at him ; he was evi- 
dently reflecting. In a moment he turned round to me and said : 



STUARTS "EIDE AROUND M'CLELLAN." 179 

" Tell Fitz Lee to come along, I'm going to move on with my 
column." These words terminated my doubt, and I understood 
in an instant that the General had decided on the bold and 
hazardous plan of passing entirely round McClellan's army. 

" I think the quicker we move now the better," I said, with a 
laugh. 

"Right," was Stuart's reply; " tell the column to move on at 
a trot." 

So at a rapid trot the column moved. 

n. 

The gayest portion of the raid now began. From this 
moment it was neck or nothing, do or die. We had one chance 
of escape against ten of capture or destruction. 

Stuart had decided upon his course with that rapidity, good 
judgment, and decision, M'hich were the real secrets of his splen- 
did efficiency as a leader of cavalry, in which capacity I believe 
that he has never been surpassed, either in the late war or any 
other. He was now in the very heart of the enemy's citadel, 
with their enormous masses upon every side. He had driven in 
their advanced force, passed within sight of the white tents of 
General McClellan's headquarters, burned their camps, and ascer- 
tained all that he wished. How was he to return ? He could 
not cross the Pamunkey, and make a circuit back ; he had no 
pontoons. He could not return over the route by which he had 
advanced. As events afterward showed, the alarm had been, 
given, and an overpowering force of infantry, cavalry, and artil- 
lery had been rapidly moved in that direction to intercept the 
daring. raider. Capture stared him in the face, on both of these 
routes — across the Pamunkey, or back as he came ; he must 
find some other loophole of escape. 

Such was the dangerous posture of affairs, and such was the 
important problem which Stuart decided in five minutes. He 
determined to make the complete circuit of McClellan's army ; 
and crossing the Chickahominy below Long Bridge, re-enter 
the Confederate lines from Charles City. If on his way he 



180 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

encountered cavalry he intended to fight it ; if a heavy force of 
inflintry barred his way he would elude, or cut a path through it ; 
if driven to the wall and debarred from escape he did not mean 
to surrender. A few days afterward I said to him : 

" That was a tight place at the river, General. If the enemy 
had come down on us, you would have been compelled to have 
surrendered." 

" No," was his reply ; " one other course was left." 

"What was that?" 

"To die game.'''' 

And I know that such was his intention. When a commander 
means to die game rather than surrender he is a, dangerous 
adversary. 

From Old Church onward it was terra incognita. What force 
of the enemy barred the road was a question of the utmost 
interest, but adventure of some description might be safely 
counted on. In about twenty-four hours I, for one, expected 
either to be laughing with my friends within the Southern lines, 
or dead, or captured. Which of these three results would follow, 
seemed largely to depend upon the " chapter of accidents." At 
a steady trot now, with drawn sabres and carbines ready, the 
cavalry, followed by the horse-artillery, which was not used dur- 
ing the whole expedition, approached Tunstall's Station on the 
York Eiver railroad, the enemy's direct line of communication 
with his base of supplies at the " White House." 

Everywhere the ride was crowded with incident. The scout- 
ing and flanking parties constantly picked up stragglers, and 
overhauled unsuspecting wagons filled with the most tempting 
stores. In this manner a wagon, stocked with champagne 
and every variety of wines, belonging to a General of the 
Federal army, fell a prey to the thirsty gray-backs. Still they 
pressed on. Every moment an attack was expected in front or 
rear. Colonel Will. T. Martin commanded the latter. " Tell 
Colonel Martin," Stuart said to me, "to have his artillery ready, 
and look out for an attack at any moment." I had delivered 
the message and was riding to the front again, when suddenly a 
loud cry arose of " Yankees in the rear ! " Every sabre flashed, 



Stuart's "ride around m'clellan." 181 

fours were formed, the men wheeled about, when all at once a 
stunning roar of laughter ran along the line ; it was a canard. 
The column moved up again with its flanking parties well out. 
The men composing the latter were, many of them, from the 
region, anci for the first time for months saw their mothers and 
sisters. These went quite wild at sight of their sous and 
brothers. They laughed and cried, and on the appearance of 
the long gray column instead of the familiar blue coats of the 
Federal cavalry, they clapped their hands and fell into ecstasies 
of delight. One young lady was seen to throw her arms around 
a brother she had not before met for a long time, bursting into 
alternate sobs and laus:hter. 

The column was now skirting the Pamunkey, and a detach- 
ment hurried off to seize and burn two or three transports lying 
in the river. Soon a dense cloud rose from them, the flames 
soared up, and the column pushed on. Everywhere were seen 
the traces of flight — for the alarm of " hornets in the hive " was 
given. Wagons had turned over, and were abandoned — from 
others the excellent army stores had been hastily thrown. This 
writer got a fine red blanket, and an excellent pair of cavalry 
pantaloons, for which he still owes the United States. Other 
things lay about in tempting array, but we were approaching 
TunstalFs, where the column would doubtless make a charge ; 
and to load down a weary horse was injudicious. The advance 
guard was now in sight of the railroad. There was no question 
about the affair before us. The column must cut through, 
whatever force guarded the railroad ; to reach the lower Chicka- 
hominy the guard here must be overpowered. Now was the 
time to use the artiller}-, and every effort was made to hurry it 
forward. But alas! it had got into a tremendous mudhole, 
and the wheels were buried to the axle. The horses were 
lashed, and jumped, almost breaking the traces; the drivers 
swore ; the harness cracked — but the guns did not move. 
"Gat! Lieutenant," said a sergeant of Dutch origin to the brave 
Lieutenant McGregor, " it can't be done. But just put that keg 
on the gun, Lieutenant," pointing, as he spoke, to a keg of whiskey 
in an ambulance, the spoil of the Federal camp, "and tell the 



182 WEARING OF THE GRAY, 

men they can have it if they only pull through ! " McGregor 
laughed, and the keg was quickly perched on the gun. Then 
took place an exhibition of herculean muscularity which would 
have delighted Guy Livingston. With eyes fixed ardently upon 
the keg, the powerful cannoneers waded into the madhole up to 
their knees, seized the wheels of gun and caisson loaded down 
with ammunition, and just simply lifted the whole out, and put 
them on firm ground. The piece whirled on — the keg had been 
dismounted — the cannoneers revelled in the spoils they had 
earned. 

Tunstall's was now nearly in sight, and that good fellow 
Captain Frayser, afterward Stuart's signal officer, came back 
and reported one or two companies of infantry at the railroad. 
Their commander had politely beckoned to him as he recon- 
noitred, exclaiming in wheedliog accents, full of Teutonic 
blandishment, "Koomyay!" But this cordial invitation was 
disregarded ; Frayser galloped back and reported, and the ring- 
ing voice of Stuart ordered " Form platoons ! draw sabre I 
charge 1 " At the word the sabres flashed, a thundering shout 
arose, and sweeping on in column of platoons, the gray people 
fell upon their blue adversaries, gobbling them up, almost with- 
out a shot. It was here that my friend Major F got the 

hideous little wooden pipe he used to smoke afterward. He 
had been smoking a meerschaum when the order to charge was 
given ; and in the rush of the horsemen, dropped and lost it. 
He now wished to smoke, and seeing that the captain of the 
Federal infantry had just filled his pipe, leaned down from the 
saddle, and politely requested him to surrender it. 

" I want to smoke ! " growled the Federal captain. 

" So do I," retorted Major F . 

" This pipe is my property," said the captain. 

" Oh ! what a mistake ! " responded the major politely, as he 
gently took the small affair and inserted it between his lips. 
Anything more hideous than the carved head upon it I never 
saw. 

The men swarmed upon the railroad. Quick axes were 
applied to the telegraph poles, which crashed down, and Bed- 



Stuart's "ride around m'clellan." 183 

mond Burke went in command of a detachment to burn a small 
bridge on the railroad near. Suddenly in the midst of the 
tumult was heard the shrill whistle of a train coming from the 
direction of the Chickahominy. Stuart quickly drew up his 
men in a line on the side of the road, and he had no sooner done 
so than the train came slowly round a wooded bend, and bore 
down. When within two hundred yards it was ordered to halt, 
but the command was not obeyed. The engineer crowded'on all 
steam ; the train rushed on, and then a thundering volley was 
opened upon the " flats " containing officers and men. The 
engineer was shot by Captain Farley, of Stuart's staff, and a 
number of the soldiers were wounded. The rest threw them- 
selves upon their faces ; the train rushed headlong by like some 
frightened monster bent upon escape, and in an instant it had 
disappeared. 

Stuart then reflected for a single moment. The question was, 
should he go back and attack the White House, where enormous 
stores were piled up ? It was tempting, and he afterwards told 
me he could scarcely resist it. But a considerable force of infan- 
try was posted there ; the firing had doubtless given them the 
alarm ; and the attempt was too hazardous. The best thing 
for that gray column was to set their faces toward home, and 
"keep moving," well closed up both day and night, for the 
lower Chickahominy. So Stuart pushed on. Beyond the rail- 
road appeared a world of wagons, loaded with grain and coffee — 
standing in the road abandoned. Quick work was made of 
them. They were all set on fire, and their contents destroyed. 
From the horse-trough of one I rescued a small volume bearing 
on the fly-leaf the name of a young lady of Williamsburg. I 
think it was a volume of poems — poetic wagon-drivers ! 

These wagons were only the " vaunt couriers" — the advance 
guard — of the main body. In a field beyond the stream thirty 
acres were covered with them. They were all burned. The 
roar of the soaring flames was like the sound of a forest on fire. 
How they roared and crackled 1 The sky overhead, when night 
had descended, was bloody- looking in the glare. 

Meanwhile the main column had moved on, and I was riding 



184: WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

after it, when I heard the voice of Stuart in the darkness 
exclaiming with strange agitation : 

" Who is here ? " 

" I am," I answered ; and as he recognised my voice he ex- 
claimed : 

" Good I where is Eoonej Lee ? " 

" I think he has moved on. General." 

" Do you know it ? '" came in the same agitated tone. 

'• No, but I believe it." 

"Will you siuear to itf I must know! He may take the 
wrong road, and the column will get separated I " 

" I will ascertain if he is in front." 

" Well, do so ; but take care — j'ou will be captured ! " 

I told the General I would " gallop on for ever till I found 
him," but I had not gone two hundred yards in the darkness 
when hoof-strokes in front were heard, and I ordered : 

" Halt ! who goes there ? " 

" Courier, from Colonel William Lee." 

" Is he in front ? " 

" About a mile, sir." 

" Good ! " exclaimed the voice of Stuart, who had galloped up ; 
and I never heard in human accents such an expression of relief. 
If the reader of this has ever commanded cavalry, moving at 
night in an enemy's country, he will understand why Stuart 
drew that long, deep breath, and uttered that brief word, 
" Good ! " Once separated from the main column and lost — 
good-by then to Colonel Lee ! 

Pushing on by large hospitals which were not interfered with, 
we reached at midnight the three or four houses known as Tal- 
leysville ; and here a halt was ordered to rest men and horses, and 
permit the artillery to come up. This pause was fatal to a sut- 
ler's store from which the owners had fled. It was remorselessly 
ransacked and the edibles consumed. This historian ate in suc- 
cession figs, beef-tongue, pickle, candy, tomato catsup, pre- 
serves, lemons, cakes, sausages, molasses, crackers, and canned 
meats. In presence of these attractive commodities the spirits 
of many rose. Those who in the morning had made me laugh 



STUART'S "RIDE AROUND M'CLKLLAN." 185 

bj saying, " General Stuart is going to get his command 
destroyed — this movement is mad," now regarded Stuart as. the 
first of men ; the raid as a feat of splendour and judicious daring 
which could not fail in terminating successfully. Such is the 
difference in the views of the military machine, unfed and fed. 

III. 

In an hour the column moved again. Meanwhile a little inci- 
dent had happened which still makes me laugh. There was a 
lady living some miles off in the enemy's line whom I wished 
to visit, but I could not obtain the Greneral's consent. "It is 
certain capture," he said ; " send her a note by some citizen, say 

Dr. H ; he lives near here." This I determined to do, and 

set off at a gallop through the moonlight for the house, some 
half a mile distant, looking out for the scouting parties which 
were probably prowling on our flanks. Eeaching the lonely 
house, outside the pickets, I dismounted, knocked at the front 
door, then the back, but received uo answer. All at once, how- 
ever, a dark figure was seen gliding beneath the trees, and this 
figure cautiously approached. I recognised the Doctor, and 
called to him, whereupon he quickly approached, and said, " I 
thought you were a Yankee ! " and greeting me cordially, led 
the way into the house. Here I wrote my note and entrusted it 
to him for delivery — taking one from him to his wife, within our 
lines. In half an hour I rode away, but before doing so asked 
for some water, which was brought from the well by a sleepy, 
sullen, and insolent negro. This incident was fruitful of woes to 

Dr. H ! A month or two afterwards I met him looking as 

thin and white as a ghost 

"What is the matter? " I said. 

" The matter is," he replied, with a melancholy laugh, " that I 
have been starving for three weeks in Fortress Monroe on your 
account. Do you remember that servant who brought you the 
water that night on Stuart's raid ? " 

"Perfectly." 

" Well, the very next day he went over to the Yankee picket 



186 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

and told them that I had entertained Confederate officers, and 
given you all information which enabled you to get off safely. 
In consequence I was arrested, carried to Old Point, and am 
just out! " 

I rejoined the column at Talleysville just as it began to move 
on the road to Forge Bridge. The highway lay before us, white 
in the unclouded splendour of the moon. The critical moment 
was yet to come. Our safety was to turn apparently on a throw 
of the dice, rattled in the hand of Chance. The exhaustion of 
the march now began to tell on the men. Whole companies 
went to sleep in the saddle, and Stuart himself was no exception. 
He had thrown one knee over the pommel of his saddle, folded 
his arms, dropped the bridle, and — chin on breast, his plumed 
hat drooping over his forehead — was sound asleep. His sure- 
footed horse moved steadily, but the form of the General tot- 
tered from side to side, and for miles I held him erect by the 
arm. The column thus moved on during the remainder of the 
night, the wary advance guard encountering no enemies and 
giving no alarm. At the first streak of dawn the Chickahominy 
was in sight, and Stuart was spurring forward to the ford. 

It was impassable! The heavy rains had so swollen the 
waters that the crossing was utterly impracticable! Here we 
were within a few miles of McClellan's army, with an enraged 
enemy rushing on our track to make us rue the day we had 
"circumvented " them, and inflicted on them such injury and 
insult; here we were with a swollen and impassable stream 
directly in our front — the angry waters roaring around the half- 
submerged trunks of the trees — and expecting every instant to 
hear the crack of carbines from the rear-guard indicating the 
enemy's approach ! The- " situation " was not pleasing. I cer- 
tainly thought that the enemy would be upon us in about an 
hour, and death or capture would be the sure alternative. This 
view was general. I found that cool and resolute officer, Colonel 
William H. F. Lee, on the river's bank. He had just attempted 
to swim the river, and nearly drowned his horse among the 
tangled roots and snags. I said to him : 

" What do you think of the situation, Colonel ? " 



Stuart's "ride around m'Clellan." 187 

"Well, Captain," was the reply, in the speaker's habitual tone 
of cheerful courtesy, " I think we are caught." 

The men evidently shared this sentiment. The scene upon 
the river's bank was curious, and under other circumstances 
would have been laughable. The men lay about in every atti- 
tude, half-overcome with sleep, but holding their bridles, and 
ready to mount at the first alarm. Others sat their horses 
asleep, with drooping shoulders. Some gnawed crackers ; others 
ate figs, or smoked, or yawned. Things looked "blue," and 
that colour was figuratively spread over every countenance. 
When this writer assumed a gay expression of countenance, 
laughed, and told the men it was "all right," they looked at him 
as sane men regard a lunatic ! The general conviction evidently 
was that "all right" was the very last phrase by which to 
describe the situation. 

There was only one man who never desponded, or bated one 
"jot or tittle of the heart of hope." That was Stuart. I had 
never been with him in a tight place before, but from that mo- 
ment I felt convinced that he was one of those men who rise 
under pressure. He was aroused, strung for the hard struggle 
before him, and resolute to do or die ; but he was not excited. All 
I noticed in his bearing to attract attention was a peculiar fash- 
ion of twisting his beard, certain proof with him of surround- 
ing peril. Otherwise he was cool and looked dangerous. He 
said a few words to Colonel Lee, found the ford impassable, and 
then ordering his column to move on, galloped down the stream 
to a spot where an old bridge had formerly stood. Beaching 
this point, a strong rear-guard was thrown out, the artil- 
lery placed in position, and Stuart set to work vigorously to 
rebuild the bridge, determined to bring out his guns or die 
trying. 

The bridge had been destroyed, but the stone abutments re- 
mained some thirty or forty feet onlj^ apart, for the river here ran 
deep and narrow between steep banks. Between these stone sen- 
tinels,, facing each other, was an "aching void " which it was neces- 
sary to fill. Stuart gave his personal superintendence to the work, 
he and his staff labouring with the men. A skiff was procured ; 



183 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

this was affixed by a rope to a tree, in the mid-current just 
above the abutments, and thus a movable pier was secured in 
the middle of the stream. An old barn was then hastily torn 
to pieces and robbed of its timbers ; these were stretched down 
to the boat, and up to the opposite abutment, and a foot-bridge 
was thus ready. Large numbers of the men immediately un- 
saddled their horses, took their equipments over, and then 
returning, drove or rode their horses into the stream, and swam 
them over. In this manner a considerable number crossed ; but 
the process was much too slow. There, besides, was the artil- 
lery, which Stuart had no intention of leaving. A regular 
bridge must be built without a moment's delay, and to this 
work Stuart now applied himself^ with ardour. 

Heavier blows resounded from the old barn ; huge timbers 
approached, borne on brawny shoulders, and descending into the 
boat anchored in the middle of the stream, the men lifted them 
across. They were just long enough ; the ends rested on the 
abutments, and immediately thick planks were hurried forward 
and laid crosswise, forming a secure footway for the cavalry and 
artillery horses. Standing in the boat beneath, Stuart worked 
with the men, and as the planks thundered down, and the 
bridge steadily advanced, the gay voice of the General was 
heard humming a song. He was singing carelessly, although at 
every instant an overpowering force of the enemy was looked 
for, and a heavy attack upon the disordered cavalry. 

At last the bridge was finished ; the artillery crossed amid 
hurrahs from the men, and then Stuart slowly moved his cavalry 
across the shaky footway. A little beyond was another arm of 
the river, which was, however, fordable, as I ascertained and 
reported to the General ; the water just deep enough to swim a 
small horse ; and through this, as through the interminable 
sloughs of the swamp beyond, the head of the column moved. 
The prisoners, who were numerous, had been marched over in 
advance of everything, and these were now mounted on mules, 
of which several hundred had been cut from the ca'ptured 
wagons and brought along. They were started under an escort 
across the ford, and into the swamp beyond. Here, mounted 



stuakt's "ride around m'clellan." 189 

often two on a mule, they bad a disagreeable time ; the mules 
constantly falling in the treacherous mud-holes, and rolling their 
riders in the ooze. "When a third swamp appeared before them, 
one of the Federal prisoners exclaimed, with tremendous indig- 
nation, " How many d — d ChicJcen-homimcs are there, I wonder, 
in this infernal country ! " 

The rear-guard, under Colonel W. H. F. Lee, had meanwhile 
moved down steadily from the high ground, and defiled across 
the bridge. The hoofs clattered on the hasty structure, the 
head of the column was turned toward the ford beyond, the last 
squadron had just passed, and the bridge was being destroyed, 
when shots resounded on the opposite bank of the stream, and 
Colonel Rush thundered down with his " lancers " to the bank. 
He was exactly ten minutes too late. Stuart was over with his 
artillery, and the swollen stream barred the way, even if Colonel 
Rush thought it prudent to " knock up against " the one thou- 
sand five hundred crack cavalry of Stuart. His men banged 
away at Colonel Lee, and a parting salute whizzed through the 
trees as the gray column slowly disappeared. 

A lady of New Kent afterwards told me that Colonel Rush 
stopped at her house on his return, looking weary, broken down, 
and out of humour. When she asked him if he had " caught 
Stuart," he replied, " No, he has gone in at the back door. I 
only saw his rear-guard as it passed the swamp." 



IV. 

Stuart had thus eluded his pursuers, and was over the Chicka- 
hominy in the hospitable county of Charles City. The gentle- 
men of the county, we afterwards heard, had been electrified by 
the rumour that " Stuart was down at the river trying to get 
across," and had built a hasty bridge for us lower down. We 

were over, however, and reaching Mr. C 's, the General and 

his staff lay down on a carpet spread on the grass in the June 
sunshine, and went to sleep. This was Sunday. I had not 
slept since Friday night, except by snatches in the saddle, 



190 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

and in going on to Richmond afterwards fell asleep every few 
minutes on horseback. 

Two hours of slumber, however, made Stuart as fresh as a 

lark ; and having eaten Mr. C very nearly out of house and 

home, we pushed on all day. At night the column stopped, 
and I thought the General would stop too ; but he said, " I am 
going to Richmond to-night ; would you like to ride with me ? " 
I was obliged to decline ; my horse was worn out, Stuart set out 
by himself, rode all night, and before daylight had passed over 
the thirty miles. An hour afterwards General Lee and the 
President knew the result of his expedition. The cavalry 
returned on the same day, moving slowly in front of the gun- 
boats, which fired upon them ; but no harm was done. Rich- 
mond was reached ; and amid an ovation from delighted friends 
we all went to sleep. 

Such was Stuart's ride around McClellan's army in those 
summer days of 1862. The men who went with him look back 
to it as the most romantic and adventurous incident of the war. 
It was not indeed so much a military expedition as a raid of 
romance — a " scout" of Stuart's with fifteen hundred horsemen ! 
It was the conception of a bold and brilliant mind, and the 
execution was as fearless. '* That was the most dangerous of all 
my expeditions," the General said to me long afterwards; "if I 
had not succeeded in crossing the Chickahominy, I would have 
been ruined, as there was no way of getting out." The Emperor 
Napoleon, a good soldier, took this view of it ; when tracing out 
on the map Stuart's route from Taylorsville by Old Church to 
the lower Chickahominy, he characterized the movement as that 
of a cavalry officer of the first distinction. This criticism was 
only just, and the raid will live in history for three reasons : 

1. It taught the enemy "the trick," and showed them the 
meaning of the words " cavalry raid." What General Kilpatrick, 
Sheridan, and others afterwards effected, was the work of the 
pupil following the master. 

2. It was on a magnificent arena, to which the eyes of the 
whole world were attracted at the time ; and, 

3. In consequence of the information which Stuart furnished, 



Stuart's '• ride around m'clellan." 101 

Gen. Lee, a fortnight afterwards, attacked and defeated General 
McClellan. 

These circumstances give a very great interest to all the inci- 
dents of the movement, I hope the reader has not been wearied 
bj my minute record of them. To the old soldiers of Stuart 
there is a melancholy pleasure in«»recalling the gay scenes amid 
which he moved, the exploits which he performed, the hard work 
he did. He is gone ; but even in memory it is something to 
again follow his feather. 



II. 

STUART ON THE OUTPOST, 



A SCENE AT CAMP QUI VIVE. 
I. 

Sometimes, in dreams as it were, the present writer — like many 
others, doubtless — goes back in memory across the gulf of years 
to 1861, recalling its great scenes and personages, and living 
once more in that epoch full of such varied and passionate emo- 
tions, Manassas ! Centreville ! Fairfax ! Vienna ! — what memo- 
ries do those names excite in the hearts of the old soldiers of 
Beauregard ! That country, now so desolate, was then a virgin 
land, untouched by the foot of war. The hosts who were to 
trample it still lingered upon the banks of the Potomac ; and the 
wildest fanc}'' could not have prefigured its fate. It was a smil-. 
ing country, full of joy and beauty^the domain of " ancient 
peace ;" and of special attraction were the little villages, sleeping 
like Centreville in the hollow of green hills, or perched like 
Fairfax on the summit of picturesque uplands. These were old 
Virginia hamlets, full of recollections ; here the feet of Mason 
and Washington had trod, and here had grown up generation 
after generation ignorant of war. Peace reigned supreme ; the 
whole landscape was the picture of repose ; the villages, amid 
the foliage of their elms or oaks, slept like, birds that have nestled 
down to rest amid the grass and blossoms of the green spring 
fields. 



STUART ON THE OUTPOST. 193 

Look jfirst upon that picture, then on this ! — the picture of a 
region blasted by the hot breath of war. Where now was the 
joy of the past ? where the lovely land once smiling in fresh 
beauty, and the charm of peaceful years ? All the flowers and 
sunshine had disappeared. The springing grasses, the budding 
forests, the happy dwellings — all had vanished. Over the smil- 
ing fields the hoofs of cavalry had trampled ; the woods had 
been cut down to furnish fuel for the camp fires ; the fences had 
preceded them ; the crops and forage had been gleaned for the 
horses of the troopers. The wheels of artillery and army trains 
had worn the roads into ruts and quagmires ; opposing columns 
had advanced or retreated over every foot of ground, leaving 
their traces everywhere ; those furrows over which the broom- 
straw waved in the winter wind, or the spring flowers nodded in 
the airs of May, were ploughed by cannon-balls. 

The war-dogs had bayed here, and torn to pieces house and 
field and forest. The villages were the forlorn ghosts of them- 
selves, and seemed to look at you out of those vacant eyes, their 
open windows, with a sort of dumb despair. They were the 
eloquent monuments of the horrors of war — the veritable 
" abodes of owls." Had a raven croaked from the dead trees 
riven by cannon-balls, or a wolf growled at you from the 
deserted houses, you would have felt not the least astonishment. 
As you passed through those villages, once so smiling, the tramp 
of the cavalry horses, or the rumbling wheels of the artillery, 
made the echoes resound ; and a few heads were thrust from the 
paneless windows.' Then they disappeared ; silence settled down 
again, and the melancholy hamlet gave place to the more 
melancholy fields. Here all was waste and desolate ; no woods, 
no fences, no human face ; only torn-down and dismantled 
houses, riddled with bullets, or charred by the torch of war. 
The land seemed doomed, and to rest under a curse. That 
Federal vedette yonder, as we advance, is the only living object 
we behold, and even he disappears like a phantom. Can this, 
you murmur, be the laughing land of yesterday, the abode of 
peace, and happiness, and joy ? Can this be Fairfax, where the 
fields of wheat once rolled their golden waves in the summer 

13 



194 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

wind, and the smiling houses held out arms of welcome ? Look ! 
it has become a veritable Golgotha — the "place of skulls" — a 
sombre Jehoshaphat full of dead men's bones I 

I remember all that, and shall ever remember it ; but in con- 
trast with these scenes of ruin and desolation, come back a 
thousand memories, gay, joyous, and instinct with mirth. The 
hard trade of war is not all tragedy ; let us laugh, friends, when 
we can ; there are smiles as well as tears, comedy as well as 
tragedy, in the great and exciting drama. You don't weep 
much when the sword is in the hand. You fight hard ; and if 
you do not fall, you laugh, and even dance, perhaps — if you can 
get some music — by the camp fire. It is a scene of this descrip- 
tioij which I wish to describe to-day. This morning it came 
back to my memory in such vivid colours that I thought, if I 
could paint it, some of my readers would be interested. It 
took place in autumn of the gay year 1861, when Johnston 
and Beauregard were holding the lines of Centreville against 
McClellan ; and when Stuart, that pearl of cavaliers, was in 
command of the front, which he guarded with his cavalry. In 
their camps at Centreville, the infantry and artillery of the 
army quietly enjoyed the bad weather which forbade all military 
movements ; but the cavalry, that " eye and ear " of an army, 
were still in face of the enemy, and had constant skirmishes 
below Fairfax, out toward Vienna, and along the front near the 
little hamlet of Annandale. 

How well I remember all those scenes ! and I think if I had 
space I could tell some interesting stories of that obstinate ^efo'^e- 
guerre of picket fighting — how the gray and blue coats fought for 
the ripe fruit in an orchard just between them, all a winter's 
afternoon ; how Farley waylaid, with three men, the whole column 
of General Bayard, and attacked it ; and how a brave boy fell one 
day in a fight of pickets, and was brought back dead, wrapped 
in the brilliant oil-cloth which his sister took from her piano 
and had sent to him to sleep upon. 

But these recollections would not interest you as they interest 
me. The}'- fade, and I come back to my immediate subject — 
a visit to General " Jeb Stuart" at his headquarters, near Fair- 



STUART ON THE Oufl'OST. 195 

fax Court-House, where, in this December of 1861, 1 saw the gay 
cavalier and his queer surroundings. 

Stuart was already famous from his raids against General Pat- 
terson in the Yalley. He had harassed that commander so per- 
sistently — driving in his pickets, getting in rear of his camps, 
and cutting off his foraging parties — that Johnston said of him : 
"He is worse than a yellow-jaclcet — they no sooner brush him off 
than he lights back again." Indefatigable in reconnoissance, 
sleepless in vigilance, possessed of a physical strength which 
defied fatigue and enabled him to pass whole days and nights in 
the saddle, Stuart became the evil genius of the invading column ; 
and long afterwards, when transferred to the West, General 
Johnston wrote to him : " How can I eat, sleep, or rest in peace, 
without you upon the outpost 1 " From the Valley he came to 
Manassas, charged the Zouaves there, and then was made a Bri- 
gadier-General and put in command of the cavalry of the army 
which held the front toward Alexandria. It is at this time, 
December, 1861, that I present him to the reader. 

Go back with me to that remote period, and you shall have 
no fancy sketch, or " dignified" picture of a General command- 
ing, but the actual portrait of the famous General "Jeb Stuart" 
in the midst of his military household. 



II. 

I found the cavalry headquarters at an old house known as 
Mellen's, but officially as " Camp Qui Vive, "between Centreville 
and Fairfix Court-House. 

It was a day of December; the sun shone brightly, the frosty 
airs cut the cheek. The house was bare and bleak ; everything 
about it "looked like work." Plorses were picketed to the 
fences and trees, couriers went and ca-me with jingling spurs and 
clanking sabres, and the bugle sounded the gay "stable-call." 
Before the door, the red battle-flag, just adopted, ripples in the 
wind ; and not far from it you see the grim muzzle of a Blakely 
gun, for Stuart is devoted to artillery, and fights it whenever he 



196 weaI^ng of the gray. 

can. You may regard that gun as a somewhat unusual feature 
of a cavalry camp upon the outpost, but the sentinel placed over 
it to guard it is still queerer. It is nothing less Jihan an enor- 
mous raccoon — black, wary, with snarling teeth, and eyes full of 
" fight ! " Look at him for a moment as you pass. He is tied 
by a rope around his neck to the trail by the lunettes, and roosts 
serenely on the pintal-hook. When he stretches his rope he can 
run over the rings for the trail handspike and the prolonge, to 
the cascabel and brass base, for the pendulum hausse. His natu- 
ral line of sight, however, is between the spokes of the limber- 
wheels, and he has a box to go in when he is tired. 

The sentinel is evidently aware of his duty, for he snaps at 
everybody. You will find, when General Stuart comes out 
laughing to show him to you, that his owner regards him as the 
pearl of sentinels, the paragon of " coons." 

It was sunset as I entered, and amid a gay group I saw the 
young General of cavalry. Fancy a man of low stature and 
athletic form, with an enormous brown beard ; a huge moustache, 
ready to curl with laughter ; a broad and lofty forehead ; an eye, 
blue, brilliant, and penetrating as that of the eagle. This figure 
was clad in a gray cavalry uniform, top-boots with small bright 
spurs ; and on a chair lay his sabre and pistol, beside the brown 
felt hat looped up and adorned with a black feather. 

In this man who wrote away busily at his desk, or, throwing 
one leg carelessly over the arm of his chair, turned to utter some 
jest or break out in some snatch of song, you could discern enor- 
mous physical strength — a vigour of constitution which made him 
a veritable war-machine. This person, it was plain, cared noth- 
ing for the exhausting work which breaks down other men ; could 
live in the saddle, and was ever ready for a march, a raid, a 
charge — anything. Young — he was then but twenty-seven^— 
ardent, ambitious, gay, jovial, of immense unbounded animal 
spirits, with that clear, blue eye whose glance defies all peril, a 
seat in the saddle, and a hand for the rein and the sabre unsur- 
passed, Stuart was truly a splendid machine in magnificent 
order, and plainly asked nothing better than to " clash against 
his foe" and either fall or conquer. All this was evident in the 



STUART ON THE OUTPOST. 197 

man before me, with that bronzed cheek, athletic figure, and eye 
ready to fill full with laughter, or flash at the thought of battle. 
In Stuart I saw a cavalier whom Eupert would have made his 
bosom friend, and counted on to charge the pikes of the Iron- 
sides, and " die for King Charles " without a murmur. 

Gayest of the gay was Stuart's greeting, and in five minutes 
he had started up, put on his hat, and was showing me his 
Blakely gun, then a recent acquisition. His satisfaction at the 
ferocious snarling of his " coon " was immense ; the incorrupti- 
ble fidelity of that black sentinel plainly charmed him, and he 
made the place echo with his laughter. 

I was truly sorry to hear afterwards that this animal, so 
trusted and admired — who had at last become like a member of 
the staff — betrayed a low dissatisfaction at short rations, and 
gnawing in two the rope which confined him, actually deserted, 
and was never more seen ! 

As night fell we reentered the house ; a table was brought 
into the bare room for supper ; and then to my astonishment — 
enter two ladies ! I thought the house entirely unoccupied 
except by the gay cavalier and his "following; " but here was a 
delegation from the fairer half of humanity. Who were they ? 
How did they come there ? How did that little flower of seven- 
teen, with the rosy cheeks and the soft, blue eyes, come to bloom 
on this hot surface of war, amid the rattle of spurs and sabres? 

All these questions were speedily answered by General Stuart. 
The beautiful girl of seventeen, and her grim, irate companion, 
an elderly lady, were "prisoners of war!" On the preceding 
evening they had — after making vain applications for a pass — • 
attempted to " flank the pickets " of Stuart, and steal through 
his hnes to Alexandria. Now, as General McClellan was sojourn- 
ing with a large escort near that place, and would doubtless be 
glad to ascertain a number of things in relation to Beauregard, 
Stuart had refused the pass. When the fugitives attempted to 
elude his pickets they were caught, forwarded to headquarters, 
and there they were. 

The young lady was smiling, the elder frowning terribly. 
- The one evidently admired the gallant Stuart, with his bright, 



198 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

blue eye and floating plume, regarding the whole affair as a 
romantic adventure, to be enjoyed, not regretted ; the other as 
plainly resented the liberty taken with her movements, and was 
determined to preserve a grim, forbidding, and hostile attitude — 
that of the martyr overwhelmed, but defiant to the last. I saw 
all this at a glance, and then I understood as plainly, in a very 
few moments, that General Stuart had determined to charm 
away, if possible, the evil spirit of hostility in the hearts of his 
fair prisoners, and reconcile them to their fate. 

He lost no time in this hospitable work. It was delightful, 
and laughable too, to watch him. l^ever did gallant cavalier 
demean himself with more profound and respectful courtesy, 
with which, however, was mingled that easy off-hand fun which 
never left Stuart. In the first advance he had been repulsed. 
The ladies had been up-stairs when I arrived, and the General 
had sent up his compliments : " Would they come down to sup- 
per?" The reply was, "No, I thank you; we are not hungry." 
Whereupon that politest of Marylanders, Captain Tiernan Brien, 
A.A.G., was dispatched — assault number two — and, under the 
effect of his blandishments, the fair enemy gave way. They 
appeared, the young lady blushing and smiling ; the elder stern 
and stormy. Stuart received them, as I have said, with charm- 
ing courtesy and frankness ; compelled them to take part in his 
supper, and then, although, as very soon appeared, he had a 
great deal of work to do, did not suffer them to depart to their 
room. 

They were not to be allowed to mope there all the winter 
evening. Music, dance, and song were to while away the hours 
— so Stuart sent for three members of his military household, 
and they soon appeared. All were black. The first was an 
accomplished performer on the guitar ; the second gifted with 
the faculty of producing in his throat the exactest imitation of 
every bird of the forest ; and the third was a mighty m.aster of 
the back-step, viz. an old Virginia "breakdown." 

Upon their appearance the " performances commenced! " 



STUART ON THE OUTPOST. 199 



III. 

Behold the scene now, reader, as I looked at it, on that even- 
ing of December in 1861. We are in a bleak room, with no 
furniture but a desk, a chair, and a camp couch. At the desk 
sits Stuart, writing away with immense rapidity, and stopping 
now and then to hum a song. On the coach, near the fire, are 
the ladies — the younger smiling, the elder frowning. Around 
stand the staff, and at the door are the laughing faces of couriers, 
who look on and listen. In front of them stand the sable musi- 
cians, and the great performer of the breakdown — ebon-hued, 
dilapidated in costume, awaiting orders, and approaching the per- 
formance with serious and unmistakable satisfaction. 

Stuart calls out from his desk, without turning his head, and 
the process of charming away the evil spirit commences. The 
guitar is played by the General's body-servant Bob, a young 
mulatto of dandified appearance — the air, indeed, of a lady- 
killer — and an obvious confidence in his own abilities to delight, 
if not instruct and improve, his audience. Bob laboriously tunes 
his instrument ; gazes thoughtfully at the ceiHng, as he absently 
" picks upon the string ; " and then commences singing the 
popular air, "Listen to the Mocking-Bird." He is accompanied 
in the chorus by the sable ventriloquist, who imitates all the 
feathered tribe in his throat; and lo! as you listen, the room 
seems full of mocking-birds; the air is alive with the gay carol 
of robins, larks, jay-birds, orioles ; the eyes of the ventriloquist 
roll rapturously like balls of snow against a wall of charcoal, 
and the guitar keeps up its harmonious accompaniment. 

The young lady listens and her eyes dance. Her cheeks grow 
more rosy, her smiles brighter; even her elderly companion re- 
laxes somewhat from her rigidly hostile expression, and pays 
attention to the music. The "Mocking-Bird" ends, and is suc- 
ceeded by the plaintive " Alabama ! Alabama ! " — the guitar 
still thrumming, the ventriloquist still accompanying the' music 
with his bird-notes. Other songs succeed, and then General 
Stuart turns round with a laugh and calls for a breakdown. 



200 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

Thereupon the dilapidated African, who has up to this time re- 
mained motionless, advances into the arena, dropping his hat 
first at the door. Bob strikes up a jig upon his guitar, the ven- 
triloquist claps, and the great performer of the breakdown 
commences his evolutions, first upon the heel-tap, then upon the 
toe. His antics are grand and indescribable. He leaps, he 
whirls, he twists and untwists his legs until the crowd at the 
door grows wild with admiration. The guitar continues to roar 
and Stuart's laughter mingles with it ; the ventriloquist not only 
claps with ardour, but also imitates his favourite songsters. The 
dancer's eyes roll gorgeously, his steps grow more rapid, he exe- 
cutes unheard-of figures. Finally a frenzy seems to seize him; 
the mirth grows fast and furious ; the young lady laughs out- 
right and seems about to clap her hands. Even the elder relaxes 
into an unmistakable smile; and as the dancer disappears with a 
bound through the door, the guitar stops playing, and Stuart's 
laughter rings out gay and jovial, the grim lips open and she says : 

"You rebels do seem to enjoy yourselves! " 

These were the exact words of the lady, reader, and I think I 
can recall a few words of General Stuart, too. He had been 
busily engaged with his official papers all this time, at his desk — 
for he never permitted pleasure to interfere with business — and 
the gay scene going on in the apartment did not seem to disturb 
him in the least degree. Indeed, upon this, as upon many other 
occasions, I could see that music of any description aroused his 
mind, and was an assistance to him — the banjo, singing, any- 
thing — and by its aid now he had hurried through his work. 
Thereupon lie rose, and approached the ladies, with gay smiles 
and inquiries, if they were amused : 

" They had heard his musicians ; would the ladies now like 
to see something which might interest them ? " 

Irresistible appeal to that sentiment which is said to be the 
weakness of the fair sex — curiosity ! 

" They would like very much to see what the General spoke 
of; " and thereupon Stuart pointed to a coat and waistcoat hang- 
ing upon a nail on the wall over their heads. The clothes were 
torn by a bullet and bloody. 



STUART ON THE OUTPOST. 201 

The young lady looked, and her smiles all disappeared. 

" What is that, General ? " said the elder. 

" It is the coat and waistcoat of a poor boy of niy command, 
madam," replied Stuart, " who was shot and killed on picket the 
other day — young Chichester, from just below Fairfax Court- 
House. He was a brave fellow, and I am keeping these clothes 
to send to his mother." 

" Poor boy ! " from the young lady ; and from the elder a 
look of unmistakable sympathy, 

Stuart then gave an account of the fight ; and his voice, as he 
spoke of the death of the boy, was no longer gay — it was seri- 
ous, feeling, and had in it something delightfull}^ kind and 
sweet. Under that gay exterior of the young cavalier there was 
a warm and earnest heart — as beneath the stern eye of the man 
was all the tenderness of a woman. It was plain to me on that 
evening, and plainer afterwards when a thorough acquaintance 
with the great leader made me fully cognizant of his real cha- 
racter. There was something more charming even than the 
gaiety of Stuart — it was the low, sad tone in which he spoke of 
some dead friend, the tear in the bright blue eye which dimmed 
its fire at the thought of some face that was gone. 



LY. 

So, between mirth and pathos-r-between the rattling guitar 
and the bloody coat of the dead boy — the ladies were fairl}'- con- 
quered. When Stuart gallantly accompanied them to the door, 
and bowed as they retired, the elderly lady smiled, and I think 
the younger gave him a glance full of thanks and admiration. 

But stern duty required still that the fair fugitives should be 
further cabined and confined. Stuart "could not release them ; 
he must send them to Centreville, by standing order from Gene- 
ral Johnston, and thither thej were accordingly dispatched on 
the next morning after breakfast. The General had at his head- 
quarters — procured where, I know not — an old carriage. To 
this two horses were harnessed ; a son of Erin from the couriers 



202 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

was detailed as a driver, and the General requested me to accom- 
pany the ladies and conduct them to General Johnston. 

Then he exhibited his gallantry after the militar}'- fashion. 
The ladies had entered the carriage; the pretty blushing face of 
the young damsel of seventeen was seen at the window, her 
little white hand hung out of the carriage. Stuart took it and 
pressed it warmly to his lips — a slight exclamation, a hand with- 
drawn hastily, and a little laugh, as the young lady's face dis- 
appeared — and the carriage moved on. I mounted and got 
ready to follow ; but first I turned to Stuart, who was standing 
with the bright December sunshine on his laughing face, look- 
ing after the carriage. 

"General," I said, "will you answer me one or two questions 
before I leave you ? " 

" Well, ask them— I'll try." 

" Why did you put yourself out so much, when you were so 
busy last night, and get up that frolic? " 

" Don't you understand ? " was his laughing reply. " When 
those ladies arrived they were mad enough with me to bite my 
head off, and I determined to put them in good humour before 
they left me. Well, I have done it ; they are my good friends 
at this moment." 

"You are right; now for my other question. I saw you kiss 
that pretty little hand of the young lady as it lay in the carriage 
window ; why didn't you kiss that of the elder, too?" 

Stuart approached my horse, and leaning his arm upon the 
mane, said in low tones, as though he was afraid of being over- 
heard : 

" Would you like me to tell you ? " 

"Yes," was my reply. 

" The old lady's hand had a glove upon it ! " was his confi- 
dential whisper ; and this was followed by a real explosion, in 
which the gay cavalier seemed to find vent for all the pent-up 
laughter which had been struggling in him since the preceding 
evening. 

I accompanied the ladies to Centreville, and they did not 
utter a single unfriendly word upon the way in relation to Stu- 



STUART ON THE OUTPOST. 208 

art. Indeed, the young lady seemed altogether charmed witL\ 
the whole adventure, and appeared to .have warmly welcomed 
the incident which gave her a sight of that black plume, those 
brilliant, laughing eyes. If this page should meet her eye, will 
she pardon me if I say: "Fair flower of seventeen, you may 
have drawn your hand away that day, and thought the kiss 
imprinted on it a liberty ; but do not regret it now, for those 
lips belonged to the ' flower of cavaliers,' and to-day they are 
cold in death ! " 

I have made this little sketch of Stuart at " Camp Qui Yive " 
for those who like the undress picture of a famous man, rather 
than the historic bust — cold, still, and lifeless. Have .you not 
seen, reader, there upon the outpost as you followed me, the gay 
face of Stuart; heard his laughter as he called for the "Mock- 
ing Bird ; " and listened to his sad tones as he pointed to the 
bloody coat, and told of the brave boys shot on picket? If you 
cannot see those figures and hear the accents, it is the fault of 
the writer, and perhaps his merriment is not gay. Always those 
long-dead scenes came to him with a sort of dreamy sadness — 
the mirth is mournful, and the laughter dies away. 

No more at " Camp Qui Vive," or any other camp, will the 
laugh of Stuart ring out joyous and free. He is gone — but lives 
still here upon the soil of Virginia, and will live for ever ! 



III. 

ONE OF STUART'S ESCAPES. 



I. 

I NEVER pass the little village of Yerdiersville, on the road 
from Orange Court-House to Chancellorsville, without casting a 
glance upon a small house — the first upon the right as you enter 
the hamlet from the west. 

There is nothing remarkable in the appearance of this house ; 
and unless some especial circumstance directed to it your atten- 
tion, you would pass it by completely without notice. A small 
wooden mansion, such as every village contains ; a modest, rather 
dilapidated porch ; a contracted yard in front, and an ordinary 
fence of narrow palings, through which a narrow gate gives 
access to the road — there is the whole. Now why should this 
most commonplace and uninteresting of objects cause the present 
writer, whenever he passes it, and however weary he may be, to 
turn his horse's head in the direction of the little gate, pause on 
his way, and remain for some moments gazing in silence at the 
dilapidated porch, the tumble-down fence, and the narrow gate- 
way, yawning now wide open, gateless ? Because the sight of 
this house recalls a scene of which it was the theatre about three 
years ago — that is to say in August, 1862. It was here that 
Stuart had one of those narrow escapes which were by no means 
unusual in his adventurous career, and which will make his 
life, when time has mellowed the events of this epoch, the chosen 
subject of those writers dealing in the romance of war. 

Ah ! those " romances of the war ! " The trifling species will 
come first, in which the Southern leaders will be made to talk an 



ONE OF STUAKT'S ESCAPES. 205 

incredible gibberish, and figure in the most tremendous adven- 
tures. We shall then see, mj dear reader, the august form of 
Lee, dressed in that splendid new uniform which he always wore, 
riding that swift Arabian, blazing with his golden caparison, and 
exclaiming, " Behold yonder battery, my men ! Charge on it ! 
Sweep the foeman from your path ! " The gay and elegant form 
of Stonewall Jackson will be seen as he leads his cavalry, and 
swears in the charge ; Stuart will give his cautious counsel to fall 
back; and we shall have, in the yellow-covered pamphlets, a 
truthful picture of the war. But then will come the better order 
of things, when writers like Walter Scott will conscientiously 
collect the real facts, and make some new " Waverley" or 
" Legend of Montrose." For these, and not for the former class, 
I propose to set down here an incident in the life of the great 
commander of the Southern cavalry, of which he told me all the 
particulars, for I was not present. 

It was about the middle of August, 1862, and Jackson, after 
deciding the fate of the day at Cold Harbour, and defeating 
General Pope at Cedar Mountain, was about to make his great 
advance upon Manassas with the remainder of the army. In all 
such movements Stuart's cavalry took its place upon the flanks, 
and no sooner had the movement begun, than, leaving his head- 
quarters in the grassy yard of the old Hanover Court-House 
where Patrick Henry made his famous speech against the parsons, 
Stuart hastened to put his column in motion for the lower waters 
of the Eapidan. 

Such was the situation of affairs when the little incident I pro- 
p>'se to relate took place. Fitz Lee's brigade was ordered to 
move by way of Verdiersville to Raccoon Ford, and take position 
on Jackson's right ; and General Stuart hastened forward, attend- 
ed only by a portion of his staff, toward Yerdiersville, where 
he expected to be speedily joined by " General Fitz." 

Stuart reached the little hamlet on the evening, I believe, of 
the 16th of August, and selecting the small house which I have 
described for his temporary headquarters, awaited the approach 
of his column. 

Half an hour, an hour passed, and nothing was heard of the 



206 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

expected cavalry. General Stuart's position was by no means 
a safe one, as the event showed. He was ten miles distant 
from any succour in case of an attack. The country around 
Verdiersville was known to be full of prowling detachments of 
Federal cavalry ; and the daring cavalier, upon whose skill and 
energy so much depended at that crisis, might be quietly picked 
up by some scouting party of the enemy, and carried as a rich 
prize to General Pope. Stuart was, however, well accustomed 
throughout his adventurous career to take such risks; they 
even seemed to possess an irresistible charm to him, and he pre- 
pared to spend the night, if necessary, in this exposed spot. He 
accordingly tied his horse to the fence, the bridle having been 
taken from his mouth to allow the animal to feed, spread his 
gray riding-cape upon the porch of the little house, and prepared 
to go to sleep. First, however, he called Major Fitz Hugh, of 
his staff, and sent him back about a mile down the road to look 
out for General Fitz Lee. The major was to go to the mouth of 
the Richmond and Antioch Church road, await General Fitz's 
arrival, and communicate further orders. Having arranged this, 
Stuart lay down with his staff and they all went to sleep. 

Let us now accompany Major Fitz Hugh, an old (though still 
youthful and alert) cavalryman — used to scouting, reconnoi- 
tring, and dealing generally with Federal cavalry. The major took 
a courier with him, and riding down the road about a mile in 
the direction of Chancellorsville, soon reached the mouth of the 
Antioch Church road — a branch of that most devious, puzzling, 
bewildering of all highways, the famed " Catharpin road." Major 
Fitz Hugh found at his stopping-place an old deserted house, 
and as this house was a very good " picket post " from which 
to observe the road by which General Fitz Lee must come, the 
major came to a halt at the old rattle-trap — forlornest of aban- 
doned wayside inns — and there established his headquarters. 
An hour, two hours passed — there was no sign of General Fitz ; 
and the major, who had ridden flir and was weary, tied his hand- 
some sorrel near, directed the courier to keep a sharp look-out, 
and, entering the house, lay down on the floor to take a short 
nap. 



ONE OF Stuart's escapes. 207 

Such resolutions, under such circumstances, generally end in 
a good night's sleep. About daylight Major Fitz Hugh was 
awakened by a noise of hoofs on the road without, and, rising, 
lie went to meet General Fitz Lee. The first circumstance which 
induced him to change his views of the "situation" was the 
sight of a swarm of hlue-coated cavalrymen around the house, 
one of whom had untied and was leading off in triumph his 
glossy sorrel! A dozen others, who had arrived too late to 
secure the prize, were uttering imprecations on their luck. 

A glance took in the whole scene — Major Fitz Hugh found 
himself surrounded by Federal cavalry, and a party soon burst 
into the house, and, with pistols at his breast, ordered him to 
surrender. The major was furious at this coTitretemps^ and 
glanced around for his weapons. He clutched his pistol and 
cocked it; but his wrist was immediately seized, and an attempt 
made to wrench the weapon from his grasp. The major retorted 
by twisting his hand, and firing one or two barrels, but without 
result. They then rushed upon him, threw him down ; his arms 
were wrested from him in a trice, and he was conducted to 
the commanding officer of the force, at the head of his column 
without. 

The officer was a colonel, and asked Major Fitz Hugh a great 
number of questions. He was evidently lost. The major 
declined replying to any of them, and now his fears were pain- 
fully excited for Greneral Stuart. If the column should take 
the direction of Verdiersville there was every reason to fear that 
the General would be surprised and captured. Meanwhile Major 
Fitz Hugh had taken a seat upon a fence, and as the column 
began to move he was ordered to get up and walk. This he 
declined doing, and the altercation was still proceeding, when 
an officer passed and the major complained of having his horse 
taken from him. "I am accustomed to ride, not to walk," he 
said ; and thi-s view of the subject seemed to impress the Federal 
officer, who, either from courtesy or to secure a mounted guide, 
had his horse brought and returned to him for the nonce. The 
major mounted' and rode to the front amid " There goes the 
rebel major!" " Ain't he a fine dressed fellow ? " "Don't he 



208 WEARING OP^ THE GRAY. 

ride proud ? " sounds soothing and pleasant to tlie captured 
major, who was dressed in a fine new roundabout with full gold 
braid. 

But his thoughts suddenly became far from pleasant. The 
head of the cavalry column had turned toivard Yerdiersville^ only 
a mile distant, and General Stuart's danger was imminent. The 
courier had also been captured ; no warning of his peril could 
be got to the- General; and worse than all, he would doubt- 
less take the column for that of General Fitz Lee, which was to 
come by this very road, and thiis be thrown completely off his 
guard. A more terrible coyUretemps could not have occurred 
than the Major's capture, and he saw no earthly means of giving 
the alarm. He was riding beside the colonel commanding, who 
had sent for him, and was thus forced to witness, without taking 
part in it, the scene about to be enacted. 

n. 

Let us return now to the small party asleep on the porch of 
the house in Verdiersville. 

They did not awake until day, when Stuart was aroused by 
the noise of hoofs upon the road, and concluding that General 
Fitz Lee had arrived, rose from the floor of the porch, and, 
without his hat, walked to the little gate. The column was not 
yet discernible clearly in the gray of morning; but in some 
manner Stuart's suspicions were excited. To assure himself of 
the truth, he requested Captain Mosby and Lieutenant Gibson, 
who were with him, to ride forward and see what command was 
approaching. 

The reception which the two envoys met with, speedily de- 
cided the whole question. They had scarcely approached 
within pistol-shot of the head of the column, when they were 
fired upon, and a detachment spurred forward from the cavalry, 
calling upon them to halt, and firing upon them as they re- 
treated. They were rapidly pursued, and in a few moments the 
Federal cavalry had thundered down upon the house, in front 
of which General Stuar.t was standing. 



ONE OF STUART S ESCAPES. 209 

The General had to act promptly. There was no force within 
many miles of him; nothing wherewith to make resistance; 
flight or instant capture were the alternatives, and even flight 
seemed impossible. The Federal horsemen had rushed at full 
gallop upon the house ; the horses of the General and staff were 
unbridled, and the only means of exit from the yard seemed to 
be the narrow gate in front, scarcely wide enough for a mounted 
man to pass, and right in face of the enemy. In addition to 
this, the little party had just been aroused; the General had 
even left his hat and cape upon the floor of the porch, so com- 
plete was the feeling of security ; and when Mosby was fired on, 
he was standing bare-headed at the gate. 

What followed all took place in an instant. The General and 
his party leaped on their horses, some of which liad been hastily 
bridled, and sought for means of escape. One of the staff ofii- 
cers darted through the narrow gate with his bridle-reins hang- 
ing down beneath his horse's feet, and disappeared up the road 
followed by a shower of balls. The rest took the fence. Stuart, 
bare-headed, and without his cape, which still lay on the porch, 
threw himself upon his unbridled horse, seized the halter, and 
digging his spurs into his sides, cleared the palings, and galloped 
off amid a hot fire. lie went on until he reached a clump of 
woods near the house, when he stopped to reconnoitre. 

The enemy did not at once follow, and from his point of obser- 
vation the General had the mortification of witnessing the cap- 
ture of his hat and cape. The Federal cavalrymen dashed up 
to the porch and seized these articles, which they bore off in 
triumph — raising the brown hat, looped up with a golden star, 
and decorated with its floating black featlier, upon the points of 
their sabres, and laughing at the escapade which they had thus 
occasioned. 

Major Fitz Hugh, at the head of the main column, and beside 
the Federal Colonel, witnessed all, and bui-st into laughter and 
sobs, such wiis his joy at the escape of his General. This at- 
tracted the attention of the Federal officer, who said : 

" Major, who was that party i " 

" That have escaped ? " 

14 



210 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

"Yes." 

The Major looked again and saw that, on his fleet " Skylark," 
Stuart was entirely safe by this time, and unable to contain his 
triumph, exclaimed: 

" Do you really wish to know who that was. Colonel ? " 

" I do." 

"Well, it was General Stuart and his staff! " 

"General Stuart!" exclaimed the officer; "was that General 
Stuart?'' 

" Yes, and he has escaped ! " cried the overjoyed Major. 

" A squadron there ! " shouted the Colonel in great excite- 
ment; " pursue that party at once ! Fire on them ! It is Gene- 
ral Stuart ! " 

The squadron rushed forward at the word upon the track of 
the fugitives to secure their splendid prize ; but their advance 
did not afford the General much uneasiness. Long experience 
had told him that the Federal cavalry did not like woods, and he 
knew that they would not venture far for fear of a surprise. 
This idea was soon shown to be well founded. The Federal 
squadron made a very hot pursuit of the party until they came 
to the woods; they then contented themselves with firing and 
advancing very cautiously. Soon even this ceased, and they 
rapidly returned to Verdiersville, from which place the whole 
column hastily departed in the direction of the Eapidan. The 
Colonel carried off Major Fitz Hugh to serve as a guide, for he 
had lost his way, and stumbled thus upon Verdiersville. If you 
wish to laugh, my dear reader, go and see Major Fitz Hugh, and 
ask him what topographical information he gave the Federal 
commandant. It very nearly caused the capture of his com- 
mand ; but he got back safe to Pope's army, and took our friend, 
the Major, with him. 

Such was Stuart's narrow escape at Yerdiersville. He suc- 
ceeded in eluding them, but he lost his riding cape and hat, 
which the enemy had seized upon, and this rankled in the mind 
of the Genera], prompting him to take his revenge at the earliest 
practicable moment. 

That moment soon came. Just one week afterwards, when 



ONE OF Stuart's escapes. 211 

General Lee had pressed on to the Eappahannock, and General 
Pope had hastily retired before him, Stuart made an expedition 
to the enemy's rear, and struck the Orange and Alexandria Eail- 
road at Catlett's. 

It was one dark and stormy night that the attack was made — 
the column plunging forward at full speed, through ditches and 
ravines, without light enough to see their hands before them; 
and by a singular chance Stuart came on Pope's headquarters, 
which was at Catlett's. The Federal commander fled with his 
staff, and Stuart captured all his official papers containing the 
fullest information of his strength, position, and designs. Those 
papers were transmitted to General Lee, and probably deter- 
mined him to send Jackson to Pope's rear. 

In addition to the papers Stuart made a capture which was 
personally soothing to his feelings. In his flight, General Pope 
left his coat behind ! and when the leader of the Southern cav- 
alry, so recently despoiled of his cape and hat, left Catlett's, he 
bore off with him the dress uniform coat of the Federal com- 
mander, who had prophetically announced to his troops upon 
taking command, that " disaster and shame lurked in the rear." 

The account was thus balanced. Catlett's had avenged Ver- 
diersyille ! 

And so, my dear reader, you know why I always glance at 
that little house in the village as I pass. The dilapidated porch 
is still there, where Stuart slept, and the fence which he leaped 
still stands, as he pointed it out to me one day, when we rode 
by, describing with gay laughter his adventure. All these inani- 
mate objects remain, but the noble figure which is associated 
with the place will never more be seen in the flesh — the good 
knight has been unseated by a stronger arm than that of man. 
He passed unscathed through this and a thousand other perils; 
but at last came the fatal bullet. At the Yellow Tavern he fell 
in front of his line, cheering on his men to the last, and on a 
beautiful slope of Hollywood Cemetery, above the city which 
he died defending, he " sleeps well." 

Thus passed away the " flower of cavaliers," the pearl of chi- 
valry. Hying, he did not leave his peer. 



IV. 
A GLIMPSE OF COL. "JEB STUART." 



This sketch, may it please the reader, will not contain any 
"historic events." Not a single piece of artillery will roar in 
it — not a single volley of musketry will sound — no life will be 
lost from the very beginning to the end of it. It aims only to 
draw a familiar outline of a famous personage as he worked his 
work in the early months of the war, and the muse of 
comedy, not tragedy, will hold the pen. For that brutal thing 
called war contains much of comedy ; the warp and woof of the 
fabric is of strangely mingled threads — blood and merriment, 
tears and laughter follow each other, and are mixed in a manner 
quite bewildering ! To-day it is the bright side of the tapestry 
I look at — my aim is to sketch some little triflinr scenes " upon 
the outpost." 

To do so, it will be necessary to go back to the early years 
of the late war, and to its first arena, the country between Ma- 
nassas and the Potomac. Let us, therefore, leave the present 
year, 1866, of which many persons are weary, and return to 
1861, of which many never grow tired talking — 1S61, with its 
joy, its laughter, its inexperience, and its confiding simplicity, 
when everybody thought that the big battle on the shores of 
Bull's Run had terminated the war at one blow. 

At that time the present writer was attached to Beauregard's 
or Johnson's " Army of the Potomac," and had gone with the 



A GLIMPSE OF COL. " JEB STUAUT." 213 

advance force of the army, after Manassas, to the little village 
of Vienna — General Bonham commanding the detachment of a 
brigade or so. Here we duly waited for an enemy who did not 
come ; watched his mysterious balloons hovering above the 
trees, and regularly "turned out" whenever one picket (graj) 
fired into another (gray). 

This was tiresome, and one day in August I mounted my 
horse and set forward toward Fairfax Court-House, intent on 
visiting that gay cavalry man. Colonel " Jeb Stuart," who had 
been put in command of the front toward Annandale. A plea- 
sant ride through the summer woods brought me to the pictur- 
esque little village; and at a small mansion about a mile east 
of the town, I came upon the cavalry headquarters. 

The last time I had seen the gay young Colonel he was 
stretched upon his red blanket under a great oak by the road- 
side, holding audience with a group of country people around 
him — honest folks who came to ascertain by what unheard-of 
cruelty they were prevented from passing through his pickets to 
their homes. The laughing, bantering air of the young com- 
mandant of the outpost that day had amused me much. I well 
remembered now his keen eye, and curling moustache, and cav- 
alry humour — thus it was a good companion whom I was about 
to visit, not a stiflf and silent personage, weighed down with 
" official business." Whether this anticipation was realized or 
not, the reader will discover. 

The little house in which Colonel Jeb Stuart had taken up his 
residence, was embowered in foliage. I approached it through 
a whole squadron of horses, picketed to the boughs ; and in 
front of the portico a new blood-red battle flag, with its blue St. 
Andrew's cross and white stars, rippled in the wind. Bugles 
sounded, spurs clashed, sabres rattled, as couriers or officers, 
Bcouts or escorts of prisoners came and went ; huge-bearded 
cavalrymen awaited orders, or the reply to dispatches — and from 
within came song and laughter from the young commander. 
Let me sketch "him as he then appeared — the man who was to 
become so famous as the chief of cavalry of General Lee's army ; 
who was to inaugurate with the hand of a master, a whole new 



214 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

system of cavalry tactics — to invent the raid which his oppo- 
nents were to imitate with such good results — and to fall, after 
a hundred hot fights in which no bullet ever touched him, near 
the. scene of his first great "ride" around the army of Mc- 
Clellan. 

As he rose to meet me, I took in at a glance every detail of 
his appearance. His low athletic figure was clad in an old blue 
undress coat of the United States Army, brown velveteen panta- 
loons worn white by rubbing against the saddle, high cavalry 
boots with small brass spurs, a gray waistcoat, and carelessly 
tied cravat. On the table at his side lay a Zouave cap, covered 
with a white havelock — an article then very popular — and 
beside this two huge yellow leathern gauntlets, reaching nearly 
to the elbow, lay ready for use. Around his waist, Stuart wore 
a black leather belt, from which depended on the right a holster 
containing his revolver, and on the left a light, keen sabre, of 
French pattern, with a basket hilt. The figure thus was that 
of a man "every inch a soldier," and the fiice was in keeping 
with the rest. The broad and lofty forehead — one of the finest 
I have ever seen — was bronzed by sun and wind ; the eyes were 
clear, piercing, and of an intense and dazzling blue; the nose 
prominent, with large and mobile nostrils ; and the mouth was 
completely covered by a heavy brown moustache, which swept 
down and mingled with a huge beard of the same tint, reaching 
to his breast. Such was the figure of the young commandant, 
as he appeared that day, in the midst of the ring of bugles and 
the clatter of arms, there in the centre of his web upon the out- 
post. It was the soldier ready for work at any instant ; prepared 
to mount at the sound of the trumpet, and lead his squadrons 
in person, like the hardy, gallant man-at-arms he was. 

After friendly greetings and dinner on the lid of a camp-chest, 
where that gay and good companion. Captain Tiernan Brien, did 
the honours, as second in command, Stuart proposed that we 
should ride into Fairfax Court-House and see a lady prisoner of 
his there. When this announcement of a " lady prisoner " drew 
forth some expressions of astonishment, he explained with a 
laugh that the lady in question had been captured a few 



A GLIMPSE OF COL. " JEB STUART." 215 

days before in saspicious proximity to the Confederate lines, 
which, she appeared to be reconnoitring ; and that she was a 
friend of the "other faction" was proved by the circumstance 
that when captured she was riding a Federal Colonel's horse, 
with army saddle, holsters, and equipments complete. While 
on a little reconnoissance, all by herself, in this guise she had 
fallen into Stuart's net ; had been conducted to his headquarters ; 
assigned by him to the care of a lady resident at the Court-Housc, 
until he received orders in relation to her from the army head- 
quarters — and this lady we were nt)w about to visit. 

We set out for the village, Stuart riding his favourite "Sky- 
lark," — that good sorrel which had carried him through all the 
scouting of tlie Valley, and was captured afterwards near Sharps- 
burg. This horse was of extraordinary toughness, and I remem- 
ber one day his master said to me, " Ride as hard as you choose, 
you can't tire Skylark." On this occasion the good steed was 
in full feather; and as I am not composing a majestic historic 
narrative, it will be permitted me to note that his equipments 
were a plain " McClellan tree," upon which a red blanket was 
confined by a gaily coloured surcingle: a bridle with single 
head-stall, light curb-bit, and single rein. Mounted upon his 
sorrel, Stuart was thoroughly the cavalry-man, and he went on 
at a rapid gallop, humming a song as he rode. 

We found the lady-prisoner at a hospitable house of the village, 
and there was little in her appearance or manner to indicate the 
"poor captive," nor did she exhibit any "freezing terrour," as 
the romance writers say, at sight of the young militaire. At 
that time some amusing opinions of the Southerners were preva- 
lent at the North. The " rebels " were looked upon pretty much 
as monsters of a weird and horrible character — a sort of " anthro- 
pophagi," Cyclops-eyed, and with heads that " did grow beneath 
their shoulders." Short rations, it was popularly supposed, com- 
pelled them to devour the bodies of their enemies ; and to fall 
into their bloody clutch was worse than death. This view of 
the subject, however, plainly did not possess the captive here. 
Her fears, if she had ever had any of the terrible gray peopl(^, 



216 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

were quite dissipated ; and she received us with a nonchalant 
smile, and great indifference. 

I shall not give the fair dame's name, nor even venture to 
describe her person, or conjecture her age — further than to say 
that her face was handsome and laughing, her age about twenty- 
five or thirty. 

The scene which followed was a little comedy, whose gay par- 
ticulars it is easier to recall than to describe. It was a veritable 
crossing of swords on the arena of Wit, and I am not sure that 
the lady did not get the better of it. Her tone of badinage 
was even more than a match for the gay young officer's — and 
of badinage he was a master — but he was doubtless restrained 
on the occasion by that perfect good-breeding and courtesy 
which uniformly marked his demeanour to the sex, and his fair 
adversary had him at a disadvantage. She certainly allowed 
lier wit and humour to flash like a Damascus blade ; and, with 
a gay laugh, denounced the rebels as perfect wretches for coerc- 
ing her movements. Why, she would like to know, was she 
ever arrested ? She had only ridden out on a short pleasure 
excursion from Alexandria, and now demanded to be permitted 
to return thither. " Whj^ was she riding a Federal officer's 
horse ? " Why, simply because he w?is one of her friends. If 
the Colonel would "please" let her return through his pickets 
she would not tell anybody anything — upon her word ! 

"The Colonel" in question was smiling — probably at the 
idea of allowing anything on two feet to pass "through his 
pickets " to the enemy. But the impossibility of permitting this 
was not the burden of his reply. With that odd "laughter of 
the eye" always visible in him when thoroughly amused, he 
opposed the lady's return, on the ground that he would miss her 
society. This he could not think of, and it was not friendly in 
her to contemplate leaving him for ever so soon after making his 
acquaintance 1 Then she was losing other pleasant things. 
There was Eichmond — she would see all the sights of the Con- 
federate capital ; then an agreeable trip by way of Old Point 
would restore her to her friends. 

Reply of the lady extremely vivacious : She did not wish to 



A GLIMPSE OF COL. " JEB STUART." 217 

see the Confederate capital ! — she wished to go back to Alexan- 
dria! — straight! She was not anxious to get away from him, 
for he had treated her with the very greatest courtesy, and she 
should always regard him as her friend. But she wanted to go 
back to Alexandria, through the pickets — straight ! 

That the statement of her friendly regard for the young Colo- 
nel was unaffected, the fair captive afterwards proved. When in 
due course of time she was sent by orders from army headquar- 
ters to Kichmond, and thence via Old Point to Washington, she 
wrote and published an account of her adventures, in which 
she denounced the Confederate officials everywhere, including 
those at the centre of Rebeldom, as ruffians, monsters, and 
tyrants of the deepest dye, but excepted from this sweeping 
characterization the youthful Colonel of cavalry, who was the 
author of all her woes. So far from complaining of him, she 
extolled his kindness, courtesy, and uniform care of her comfort, 
declaring that he was " the noblest gentleman she had ever 
known." There was indeed about Colonel Jeb Stuart, as about 
Major-General Stuart, a smiling air of courtesy and gallantry, 
which made friends for him among the fair sex, even Mdien they 
were enemies ; and Bayard himself could not have exhibited 
toward them more respect and consideration than he did uni- 
formly. He must have had serious doubts in regard to the 
errand of his fair prisoner, so near the Confederate lines, but he 
treated her with the greatest consideration ; and when he left 
her, the bow he made was as low as to the finest " lady in the 
land." 

It is possible that the worthy reader may not find as much 
entertainment in perusing the foregoing sketch as I do in recall- 
ing the scene to memory. That faculty of memory is a curious 
one, and very prone to gather up, like Autolycus, the " uncon- 
sidered trifles " of life. Every trivial incident of the times I 
write of comes back now — how Stuart's gay laugh came as he 
closed the door, and how he caught up a drum which the enemy 
had left behind them in the yard of the mansion, sprang to the 
saddle, and set off at a run through the streets of the village, 
causing the eyes of the inhabitants to open with astonishment at 



218 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

the spectacle of Colonel Stuart running a race, with a drum be- 
fore him, singing lustily a camp song as he rode. In a number 
of octavo volumes the reader will find an account of the great 
career of Major-Greneral Stuart — this was Colonel Jeb Stuart on 
the outpost. 

And now if the worthy reader is in that idle, unexacting 
mood so dear to chroniclers, I beg he will listen while I speak 
of another "trifling incident" occurring on the same day, which 
had a rather amusing result. In return for the introduction 
accorded me to the captive, I offered to make the young Colonel 
acquainted with a charming friend of my own, whom I had 
known before his arrival at the place; and as he acquiesced with 
ready pleasure, we proceeded to a house in the village, where 

Colonel Stuart w\as duly presented to Miss . The officer 

and the young lady very soon thereafter became close friends, 
for she was passionately Southern — and a few words will present 
succinctly the result. 

In the winter of 1862, Colonel Mosby made a raid into Fair- 
fax, entered the Court-House at night, and captured General 
Stoughton and his staff — bringing out the prisoners and a num- 
ber of fine horses safely. This exploit of the partisan greatly 

enraged the Federal authorities ; and Miss , having been 

denounced by Union residents as Mosby's "private friend" and 
pilot on the occasion — which Colonel Mosby assured me was an 
entire error — she was arrested, her trunks searched, and the 
prisoner and her papers conveyed to Washington. Here she 
was examined on the charge of complicity in Mosby's raid ; but 
nothing appeared against her, and she was in a fair way to be 
released, when all at once a terrible proof of her guilt was dis- 
covered. Among the papers taken from the young lady's trunk 
was found the following document. This was the "damning 
record " which left no further doubt of her guilt. 

I print the paper verbatim ei literatim^ suppressing only the full 
name of the lady : 



A GLIMPSE OF COL. '' JEB STUART." 219 

" To all Whom it May Concern : 

" Know Ye, That reposing special confidence in the patriot- 
ism, fidelity, and ability of Antonia J. , I, James E. B. 

Stuart, by virtue of the power vested in me as Brigadier-General 
of the Provisional Army of the Confederate States of America, 
do hereby appoint and commission her my honorary Aide-de- 
Camp, to rank as such from this date. She will be obeyed, 
respected, and admired by all true lovers of a noble nature. 

" Given under my hand and seal at the Headquarters Cavalry 
Brigade, at Camp Beverly, the 7th October, A. D. 1861, and the 
first year of our independence. 

"J. E. B. Stuart. 
" By the General : 

"L. Tiernan Brien, A. A. G." 

Such was the fatal document discovered in Miss 's trunk, 

the terrible proof of her treason ! The poor girl was committed 
to the Old Capitol Prison as a secret commissioned emissary of 
the Confederate States Government, was kept for several 
months, and when she was released and §ent South to Eich- 
mond, where I saw her, she was as thin and white as a ghost — 
the mere shadow of her former self. 

All that cruelty had resulted from a jest — from the harmless 
pleasantry of a brave soldier in those bright October days of 
18611 



V. 

A DESERTER. 



I. 

Of all human faculties, surely the most curious is the memory. 
Capricious, whimsical, illogical, acting ever in accordance with 
its own wild will, it loses so many "important events" to retain 
the veriest trifles in its deathless clutch ! Ask a soldier who 
has fought all day long in some world-losing battle, what he re- 
members most vividly, and he will tell you that he has well-nigh 
forgotten the most desperate charges, but recalls with perfect 
distinctness the joy he experienced in swallowing a mouthful of 
water from the canteen on the body of a dead enemy. 

A trifling incident of the second battle of Manassas remains 
in my memory more vividly than the hardest fighting of the 
whole day, and I never recall the incident in question without 
thinking, too, of De Quincey's singular paper, " A Vision of 
Sudden Death." The reader is probably familiar with the arti- 
cle to which I refer — a very curious one, and not the least admi- 
rable of those strange leaves, full of thought and fancy, which 
the "Opium Eater" scattered among the readers of the last 
generation. He was riding on the roof of a stage-coach, when 
the vehicle commenced the descent of a very steep hill. Soon 
it began moving with mad velocity, the horses became unma- 
nageable, and it was obvious that if it came in collision with 
anything, either it or the object which it struck would be 
dashed in pieces. All at once, there appeared* in front, on the 



A DESERTER. 221 

narrow road, a light carriage, in which were seated a young man 
and a girl. Thej either did not realize their danger, or were 
powerless to avoid it ; and on swept the heavy stage, with its 
load of passengers, its piled-up baggage, and its maddened 
horses — rushing straight down on the frail vehicle with which it 
soon came in collision. It was at the moment when the light 
little affair was dashed to pieces, the stage rolling with a wild 
crash over the boy and girl, that De Quincey saw in their awe- 
struck faces that singular expression which he has described by 
the phrase, " A Vision of Sudden Death." 

It requires some courage to intrude upon the literary domain, 
of that great master, the " Opiunl Eater," and the comparison 
will prove dangerous ; but a reader here and there may be in- 
terested in a vision of sudden death which I myself once saw in a 
human eye. On the occasion in question, a young, weak- 
minded, and timid person was instantaneously confronted, with- 
out premonition or suspicion of his danger, with the abrupt 
prospect of an ignominious death ; and I think the great English 
writer would have considered my incident more stirring than 
his own. 

It was on the morning of August 31, 1862, on the Warrenton 
road, in a little skirt of pines, near Cub Eun bridge, between 
Manassas and Centreville. General Pope, who previously had 
"only seen the backs of his enemies," had been cut to pieces. 
The battle-ground which had witnessed the defeat of Scott and 
McDowell on the 21st of July, 1861, had now again been swept by 
the bloody besom of war ; and the Federal forces were once more 
in full retreat upon Washington. The infantry of the Southern 
army were starved, broken down, utterly exhausted, when they 
went into that battle, but they carried everything before them ; 
and the enemy had disappeared, thundering with their artillery 
to cover their retreat. The rest of the work must be done by 
the cavalry ; and to the work in question the great cavalier 
Stuart addressed himself with the energy, dash, and vigour of his 
character. The scene, as we went on, was curious. Pushing 
across the battle-field — we had slept at "Fairview," the Conrad 
House on the maps — we saw upon every side the reeking traces 



222 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

of the bloody conflict ; and as the column went on across Bull 
Eun, following the enemy on their main line of retreat over the 
road from Stonebridge to Centreville, the evidences of " demo- 
ralization" and defeat crowded still more vividly upon the eye. 
Guns, haversacks, oil-cloths, knapsacks, abandoned cannon and 
broken-down wagons and ambulances, — all the debris- oi an 
army, defeated and hastening to find shelter behind its works — 
attracted the attention now, as in July, 1861, when the first "On 
to Eichmond" was so unfortunate. Prisoners were picked up 
on all sides as the cavalry pushed on ; their horses, if they were 
mounted, were taken possessipn of; their sabres, guns, and pis- 
tols appropriated with the ease and rapidity of long practice ; 
and the prisoners were sent in long strings under one or two 
mounted men, as a guard, to the rear. 

As we approached Cub Eun bridge, over which the rear-guard 
of the Federal army had just retired, we found by the roadside 
a small wooden house used as a temporary hospital. It was full 
of dead and wounded ; and I remember that the " Hospital stew- 
ard" who attended the Federal wounded was an imposing per- 
sonage. Portly, bland, " dignified," elegantly dressed, he was as 
splendid as a major-general ; nay, far more so than any gray 
major-general of the present writer's acquaintance. Our tall and 
finely-clad friend yielded up his surplus ambulances with grace 
ful ease, asked for further orders ; and when soon his own friends 
from across Cub Eun began to shell the place, philosophically 
took his stand behind the frail mansion and "awaited further 
developments" with the air of a man who was resigned to the 
fortunes of war. Philosophic steward of the portly person ! if 
3^ou see this page it will bring back to you that lively scene when 
the present writer conversed with you and found you so com- 
posed and " equal to the occasion," even amid the shell and 
bullets ! 

But I am expending too much attention upon my friend the 
surgeon, who "held the position" there with such philosophic 
coolness. The cavalry, headed by General Stuart, pushed on, 
and we were now nearly at Cub Eun bridge. The main body 
of the enemy had reached Centreville during the preceding 



A DESERTER. 223 

nigLt, and we could see their white tents in the distance; 
but a strong rear-guard of cavalry and artillery had been left 
near the bridge, and as we now advanced, mounted skirmishers 
from the Federal side forded the stream, and very gallantly came 
to meet us. On our side, sharpshooters were promptly deployed 
— then came the bang of carbines — then Stuart's Horse Artillery 
galloped up, under Pelham, and a " rear-guard affair" began. 
Stuart formed his column for a charge, and had just begun to 
move, when the Federal skirmishers were seen retiring ; a dense 
smoke rose from Cub Eun bridge, and suddenly the enemy's 
artillery on a knoll beyond opened their grim mouths. The first 
shot they fired was admirable. It fell plump into a squadron 
of cavalry — between the files as they were ranged side by side 
in column of twos — and although it burst into a hundred pieces, 
did not wound man or horse. The Horse Artillery under Pel- 
ham replied to the fire of the opposing guns ; an animated artil- 
lery duel commenced, and the ordinary routine began. 



II. 

There is a French proverb which declares that although you 
may know when you set out on a journey, you do not know 
when you will arrive. Those who journey through the fine land 
of memory are, of all travellers, the most ignorant upon that 
score, and are apt to become the most unconscionable vagarists. 
Memory refuses to recall one scene or incident without recalling 
also a hundred others which preceded or followed it. " You 
people," said John Randolph to a gentleman of an extensive 
clan, with which the eccentric orator was always at war, "you 
people all take up each other's quarrels. You are worse than a 
pile of fish-hooks. If I try to grasp one, I raise the whole 
bunch." To end my preface, and come to my little incident. I 
was sitting on my horse near General Stuart, who had put in the 
skirmishers, and was now superintending the fire of his artillery, 
when a cavalry-man rode up and reported that they had just 
captured a deserter. 



224 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

""Where is he? " was Stuart's brief interrogatory. 

"Coming yonder, General." 

" How do you know he is a deserter? " 

" One of my company knew him when he joined our army." 

" Where is he from ? " 

" county." 

And the man mentioned the name of a county of "Western 
Virginia. 

" What is his name ? " 

"M ." 

(I suppress the full name. Some mother's or sister's heart 
might be wounded.) 

" Bring him up," said Stuart coldly, with a lowering glance 
from the blue eyes under the brown hat and black feather. As 
lie spoke, two or three mounted men rode up with the pri- 
soner. 

I can see him at this moment with the mind's eye, as I saw 
him then with the material eye. He was a young man, appa- 
rently eighteen or nineteen years of age, and wore the blue uni- 
form, tipped with red, of a private in the United States Artillery. 
The singular fact was that he appeared completely at his ease. 
He seemed to be wholly unconscious of the critical position 
which he occupied ; and as he approached, I observed that he 
returned the dark glance of Stuart with the air of a man who 
says, " What do you find in my appearance to make you fix your 
eyes upon me so intentl}'- ! " In another moment he was in 
Stuart's presence, and calmly, quietly, without the faintest exhi- 
bition of embarrassment, or any emotion whatever, waited to be 
addressed. 

Stuart's words were curtest of tbe curt. 

"Is this the man ? " he said. 

"Yes, General," replied one of the escort. 

" You say he is a deserter ? " 

" Yes, sir; I knew him in county, when he joined Cap- 
tain 's company ; and there is no sort of doubt about it, 

General, as he acknowledges that he is the same person." 

"Acknowledges it!" 



A DESERTER. 225 

" Yes, sir ; acknowledges that be is M , from that county ; 

and that after joining the South he deserted." 

Stuart flashed a quick glance at the prisoner, and seemed at a 
loss to understand what fatuity had induced him to testify against 
himself — thereby sealing his fate. His gaze — clear, fiery, menac- 
ing — was returned by the youth with apathetic calmness. Xot 
a muscle of his countenance moved, and I now had an oppor- 
tunity to look at him more attentively. He was even younger 
than I at first thought him — indeed, a mere boy. His com- 
plexion was fair; his hair flaxen and curling; his eyes blue, 
mild, and as soft in their expression as a girl's. Their expres- 
sion, as they met the lowering glances of Stuart, was almost 
confiding. I could not suppress a sigh — so painful was the 
thought that this youth would probably be lying soon with a 
bullet through his heart. 

A kinder-hearted person than General Stuart never lived ; but 
in all that appertained to his profession and duty as a soldier, he 
was inexorable. Desertion, in his estimation, was one of the 
deadliest crimes of which a human being could be guilty ; and 
his course was plain — his resolution immovable. 

" What is your name ? " said the General coldly, with a lower- 
ing brow. 

" M •, sir," was the response, in a mild and pleasing voice, 

in which it was impossible to discern the least trace of emotion. 

" Where are you from ? " 

" I belonged to the battery that was firing at you, over yon- 
der, sir." 

The voice had not changed. A calmer tone I never heard. 

"Where were you born?" continued Stuart, as coldly as 
before. 

" In , Virginia, sir." 

"Did you belong to the Southern army at any time? " 

"Yes, sir." 

The coolness of the speaker was incredible. Stuart could 
only look at him for a moment in silence, so astonishing was 
this equanimity at a time when his life and death were in the 
balance. Not a tone of the voice, a movement of the muscles, 

15 



226 WEARIN-G OF THE GRAY. 

or a tremor of the lip indicated consciousness of his danger. 
The eye never quailed, the colour in his cheek never faded. 
The prisoner acknowledged that he was a deserter from the 
Southern army with the simplicity, candour, and calmness of 
one who saw in that fact nothing extraordinary, or calculated in 
any manner to affect his destiny unpleasantly. Stuart's eye 
flashed ; he could not understand such apathy ; but in war there 
is little time to investigate psychological phenomena. 

'' So you were in our ranks, and you went over to the ene- 
my ? " he said with a sort of growl. 

" Yes, sir," was the calm reply. 

" You were a private in that battery yonder ? " 

" Yes, sir." 

Stuart turned to an officer, and pointing to a tall pine near, 
said in brief tones : 

" Hang him on that tree ! " 

It was then that a change — sudden, awful, horrible — came 
over the face of the prisoner ; at that moment I read in the dis- 
tended eyeballs the " vision of sudden death." The youth be- 
came ghastly pale ; and the eyes, before so vacant and apa- 
thetic, were all at once injected with blood, and full of piteous 
fright. I saw in an instant that the boy had not for a single 
momeiit realized the terrible danger of his position ; and that 
the words "Hang him on that tree! " had burst upon him with 
the sudden and appalling force of a thunderbolt. I have seen 
human countenances express every phase of agony ; seen the 
writhing of the mortally wounded as their life-blood welled out, 
and the horror of the death-struggle fixed on the cold upturned 
faces of the dead ; but never have I witnessed an expression 
more terrible and agonizing than that which passed over the 
face of the boy-deserter, as he thus heard his sentence. He had 
evidently regarded himself as a mere prisoner of war ; and now 
he was condemned to death 1 He had looked forward, doubt- 
less, to mere imprisonment at Richmond until regularly ex- 
changed, when " hang him on that tree ! " burst upon his ears 
like the voice of some avenging Nemesis. 

Terrible, piteous, sickening, was the expression of the boy's 



A DESERTER. 227 

face. He seemed to feel already the rope around his neck ; he 
choked ; when he spoke his voice sounded like the death-rattle. 
An instant of horror-struck silence ; a gasp or tv;o as if the 
words were trjang to force their way against some obstacle in his 
throat ; then the sound came. His tones were not loud, impas- 
sioned, energetic, not even animated. A sick terror seemed to 
have frozen him ; when he spoke it was in a sort of moan. 

" I didn't know," he muttered in low, husky tones. " I never 
meant — when I went over to Maryland — to fight against the 
South. They made me ; I had nothing to eat — I told them I 
was a Southerner — and so help me God I never fired a shot. I 
was vath the wagons. Oh ! General, spare me ; I never " 

There the voice died out ; and as pale as a corpse, trembling 
in every limb — a spectacle of helpless terror which no words 
can describe, the boy awaited his doom. 

Stuart had listened in silence, his gaze riveted upon the 
speaker ; his hand grasping his heavy beard ; motionless amid 
the shell which were bursting around him. For an instant he 
seemed to hesitate — life and death were poised in the balances. 
Then with a cold look at the trembling deserter, he said to the 
men : 

" Take him back to General Lee, and report the circum- 
stances." 

With these words he turned and galloped off ; the deserter 
was saved, at least for the moment. 

I do not know his ultimate fate ; but if he saw General Lee in 
person, and told his tale, I think he was spared. That great and 
merciful spirit inflicted the death-penalty only when he could not 
avoid it. 

Since that day I have never seen the face of the boy — nor 
even expect to see it. But I shall never forget that " vision of 
sudden death" in his distended eyes, as Stuart's cold voice 
ordered, " Hang him on that tree." 



VI. 
A YOUNG YIRGINIAN AND HIS SPURS. 



I. 

There is <a young gentleman in Virginia bearing a name so 
illustrious that, if I were to give it, the most ardent opponents 
of the " F. F. y.'s" would take a certain historic interest in what 
I am going to relate. When I say that he is called Lieutenant 

W , you cannot possibly guess his name. But to the curious 

incident with which I propose to amuse those readers who take 
an interest in the veritable occurrences of the great struggle just 
terminated. 

On the ninth day of June, 1863, there took place at Fleetwood 
Hill, near Brandy Station, in Culpeper, the greatest and most 
desperate cavalry conflict of the war. Nearly twenty-five thou- 
sand horsemen fought there " all a summer's daj^ " — as when 
Earl Percy met the Douglas in the glades of Chevy Chase — and 
the combat was of unexampled fury. General Stuart, command- 
ing all the cavalry of General Lee's army, had held a grand 
review some days before, in the extensive fields below the Court- 
House, and a mimic battle had taken place, preceding the real 
one. The horse artillery, posted on a hill, fired blank cartridges 
as the cavalry charged the guns ; the columns swept by a great 
pole, from which the white Confederate flag waved proudly in 
the wind. General Lee, with his grizzled beard and old gray 
riding-cape, looked on, the centre of all eyes ; bands played, the 
artillery roared, the charging squadrons shook the ground, and 



A YOUNG VIRGINIAN AND HIS SPURS. 229 

from the great crowd assembled to witness the imposing specta- 
cle shone the variegated dresses and bright eyes of beautiful 
women, rejoicing in the heyday of the grand review. 

But that roar of artillery in the mimic battle reached other 
ears than those for which it was intended. There were some 
friends of ours upon the opposite shore of the Rappahannock 
who took even greater interest in the movements of General Lee 
than the fair daughters of Virginia. The thunder of the artillery 
was heard by them, and they at once conceived a burning curi- 
osity to know what all this firing meant. So, one bright morn- 
ing about dawn, they came across the river, about seventeen 
thousand in number, to see what "Old Uncle Eobcrt" was 
about. Thereupon followed the hard fight of Fleetwood Hill. 

A description of this long and desperate struggle is no portion 
of the present subject. The Federal forces advanced in front, 
on the right flank, on the left flank — everywhere. The battle 
was thus fought, so to speak, " from the centre outwards." 
What the ej^e saw as Stuart rapidly fell back from the river and 
concentrated his cavalry for the defence of Fleetwood Hill, 
between him and Brandy, was a great and imposing spectacle of 
squadrons charging in every portion of the field — men falling, 
cut out of the saddle with the sabre ; artillery roaring, carbines 
cracking — a perfect hurly-burly of conflict. 

Some day, perhaps, the present historian may give a page to 
this hard battle, and speak of its " moving accidents ; " of the 
manner in which the cannoneers of the horse-artillery met and 
repulsed a charge upon their guns with clubs and sponge-staffs ; 
how that gallant spirit, P. M. B. Young, of Georgia, met the 
heavy flanking column attacking from the side of Stevensburg, 
and swept it back with the sabre ; how the brave William H, F. 
Lee received the charge upon the left and fell in front of his 
squadrons at the moment when the Federal forces broke ; and 
how Stuart, on fire with the heat of battle, was everywhere the 
soul and guiding spirit of the desperate struggle. 

At four in the evening the assault had been repulsed, and the 
Federal cavalry were in hasty retreat across the river again. 
Many prisoners remained in the hands of the Confederates, but 



230 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

they had also lost not a few ; for the fight had been so " mixed 
up," and so many small detachments of the Southern cavalry had 
been cut off and surrounded in the melee, that the captures were 
considerable. 



II. 

Among those who were thus cut off and captured in this wild 
struggle made up of dust, smoke, blood, and uproar, was Lieute- 
nant W . His horse had mired in the swampy ground near 

the Barbour House, and he was incontinently gobbled up by his 
friends in the blue coats, and marched to the rear, that is to say, 

across the Rappahannock. Lieutenant "W was an excellent 

specimen of those brave youths of the Yalley who gathered around 
Jackson in the early months of the war, and in the hot fights 
of the great campaigns against Banks and Fremont had borne 
himself with courage and distinction. Wounded and captured 
at Kernstown — I think it was — he had been exchanged, secured 
a transfer to the cavalry, and was now again a prisoner. 

He was conducted across the Rappahannock with the Confede- 
rate prisoners captured during the day, and soon found himself 
minus horse, pistol, and sabre — all of which had, of course, been 
taken from him — in front of a bonfire on the north bank of the 
river. Around this fire a crowd of Federal cavalry-men were 
now assembled, discussing the events of the day, and many of 
them entered into conversation with the prisoners, their late ad- 
versaries. Lieutenant W was standing by the fire, no doubt 

reflecting upon the curious " ups and downs" of that curious 
trade called war, when all at once something familiar in the 
voice of a young ofiicer of the Federal force, who was not far 
from him, attracted his attention. Looking at the ofiicer closely, 
he recognised in him an old friend of his who had formerly re- 
sided in Baltimore ; and going up to him, the young Virginian 
made himself known. 

He was greeted with the utmost pleasure, and the youths 
shook hands, laughing like boys at the odd meeting. If I were 



A YOUNG VIRGINIAN AND HIS SPURS. 231 

a novelist instead of an historian, my dear reader, I would here 
insert a lengthy dialogue between the friends; but not having 

been present, I can only give you the bare outline of W 's 

adventure. From talk about old scenes, and things of the past, 
the conversation glided to the present, and the young Virginian's 
unlucky situation. Eelying upon their former friendship, the 
latter at once broached the subject of his escape. 

" I wish I could help you," was the reply ; " but I see no 
sort of chance of your getting away, W ." 

*' I think I can get off in the dark." 

" Perhaps ; but crossing the river is the difficulty. The bridge 
is picketed." 

The young Virginian, nevertheless, determined to make the 
attempt. From that moment he kept a close watch on the move- 
ments of his captors. Having eaten their suppers, they now 
addressed themselves to the task of counting, assorting, and 
taking down the names of their prisoners. The latter were 
drawn up in a line near the fire, and a Federal officer went along 
the line, entering their names and regiments in his memorandum- 
book. Lieutenant W was near the head of the line, and 

having given his name and regiment — the Twelth Virginia Ca- 
valry — saw the officer pass on. I have called him Lieutenant 

W , but the young man was at that time a private ; and at 

the announcement of his historic name the Federal soldiers began 
to laugh, one of them saying " The Old Dominion must be hard 
up when her aristocracy have to go in the ranks and wear a 

jacket like that ! *' And he pointed to W 's old, discoloured 

cavalry jacket. 

The young man was, however, not thinking of the jokes of his 
captors ; he was watching his opportunity to glide out of the 
line. It soon came. The Federal soldiers were not looking at 
him; the recording officer had passed around the fire, the light 
of which thus shone for an instant in his eyes and dazzled him, 

and Lieutenant W r saw his opportunity. The space outside 

of the firelight was as gloomy as Eblis, and in a moment he had 
stepped from his place, and was lost in the darkness. He glided 
behind a tent, ran a few steps, and then paused to listen. 



232 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

Had his movement been observed ? Would they go over the 
count again, to verify the record ? Then one man would be found 
missing ; he would be at once pursued, recaptured, and rewarded 
for his attempt to escape by painful or ignominious punishment. 
He listened with all his ears ; held his breath, and soon found 
that he was not missed. The officer did not suspect the ruse 
which had been played upon him ; and the prisoners were 
marched off under guard. Lieutenant W saw them disap- 
pear with profound satisfaction, and then all his energies were 
bent to the hard task of getting out of the Federal camp and 
crossing the river. The prospect looked sufficiently dispiriting. 
He was in the centre of a city of tents, where he could not stir 
a step without attracting attention ; and even if he succeeded in 
escaping the vigilance of the men and the quarter-guard, the 
broad and deep current of the Eappahannock lay still in his 
path — the single bridge heavily picketed. The young man did 
not lose heart for a single moment, however, and, like a good 
soldier, determined to "take the chances." 

The first thing was to conceal his identity from the men around 
the fires. He accordingly took ofi* his gray jacket, and rolling 
it up, put it under his arm. His pantaloons were blue, and his 
hat was of an indefinable colour, which might be either Confe- 
derate or Federal. In his bosom, between his shirt and naked 
breast, he concealed his spurs, which he had unbuckled and 
hidden when he was captured. Having thus prepared himself, 

Lieutenant W walked boldly on, and lounged carelessly by 

the fires. One of the men asked him what regiment he belonged 
to, as if they observed something unfamiliar in his demeanour ; 
but his ready reply, giving the name of some Federal regiment, 
entirely disarmed suspicion. So much cavalry had taken part in 

the fight, and it had been so much scattered, that W was 

set down for one of the many stragglers ; and walking by the 
fires, and the quarter-guard, who stared at, but did not challenge 
him, he gained the bank of the Rappahannock. 

He had thus succeeded in his second attempt ; but obstacle 
number three threatened to be more serious. The river before 
him was broad, deep, black, and cold. The bridge near by was 



A TOUNG VIRGINIAN AND HIS SPURS. 233 

guarded ; he heard the sentinel pacing to and fro, and a second 
at the further extremity. What was to be done ? Kill the sen- 
tinel by suddenly attacking and seizing his weapon? That, 
under other circumstances, might have been done ; but there was 
the other sentinel, who would at once give the alarm ; then recap- 
ture, and a " latter end worse than the first." This plan was thus 
out of the question. But one hope presented itself. The fugitive 
could not swim the river ; but if by any means he could climb up 
to the floor of the bridge inside of the sentinel, he might, perhaps, 
crawl along without being discovered, "flank" the sentinel be- 
yond, and so get back to his friends. Young, lithe, and deter- 
mined. Lieutenant "W speedily made a reconnoissance of the 

abutments of the bridge to ascertain the possibility of executing 
his project. To his great satisfaction he discovered a pipe run- 
ning from a tank above to the water below — for this was the 
Orange and Alexandria Eailroad bridge ; and the rivets securing 
the pipe to the masonry afforded him an excellent foothold in 
climbing. Gliding beneath the sentinel in the darkness, he crept 
into the shadow, grasped the pipe, and, with hands and knees, 
climbed foot by foot up the abutment, until he had reached the 
edge of the floor-way. His hands were torn and his knees lace- 
rated, but he had taken another step toward liberty. 

What now remained to be done was to crawl along the narrow 
edge of the parapet, under shadow of a species of low railing, 
and crossing the bridge, pass around the other sentinel in some 
manner, and escape. This, however, was the most doubtful, as it 
was certainly the most dangerous portion of the adventure. The 
bridge was very lofty, the ledge narrow, slippery, and unprotected 
for he must move outside of the railing for fear of discovery ; a sin- 
gle false step would precipitate him into the river beneath. Even 
if this danger were avoided, there was the sentinel beyond, and a 

picket, doubtless, beyond the sentinel. Lieutenant W was 

revolving in his mind these various circumstances, and had begun 
to take a rather discouraging view of things, when his attention 
was attracted by the sound of steps coming from the direction 
of the Federal camp. A detachment of dismounted men were 
evidently approaching the bridge, and in a few moments the 



234: WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

voice of the sentinel was heard giving the challenge. "Eelief," 
was the reply; and then came, " Advance relief! " which was im- 
mediately followed by the appearance of the relief-guard. The new 
sentinel was relieved from his post, and took his place among the 
guard, one of whom was posted, and the detachment was heard 
tramping across the bridge to relieve in the same manner the other 
sentinels. As they came on, tramp ! tramp ! like the statue of 
the commander in " Don Giovanni," the young Virginian con- 
ceived an idea as bold as it was original. It was difficult to crawl 
along the narrow ledge without falling into the black gulf below, 
and it was questionable whether any friendly water-pipe would en- 
able him to " flank " the sentinel at the opposite extremity of the 
bridge. Why not " fall in " in the darkness with the unsuspecting 
detachment, pass through the guard beyond, and then take the 
chances of making his escape ? His resolution was at once taken ; 
and as the guard came opposite his place of concealment behind 
the low wood-work of the railing, he crouched lower, waited until 
they had passed, and then quietly stepping over the railing, fell in 
behind. The movement had been undiscovered; he was now 
advancing with measured step to " assist," as the French say, at 
relieving the " Old Guard " on the bridges — himself as honorary 
member of the relief. 

His riise was crowned with complete success. He passed with 
the detachment undiscovered to a point beyond the bridge ; and 
then stepping from the ranks — a manceuvre which the pitclj 
darkness rendered by no means difficult — he concealed himself 
until the unsuspecting Federals disappeared. He then crawled on 
his hands and knees, crouching close to the ground by another 
picket which he saw upon the road, and reaching a point where 
he believed himself beyond range, rose to his feet and com- 
menced moving. All at once he saw before him another picket- 
fire ; and not knowing whether it was that of friends or enemies, 
he again crouched down and slowly approached the fire, crawl- 
ing upon his chest along the surface of the ground. 

He had succeeded too well up to this time to risk anything; 
and he accordingly continued to " snake along " toward the fire, 
in order to discover, before making himself known, whether the 



A YOUNG VIRGINIAN" AND HIS SPURS. 235 

ground around it were friends or enemies. In this slow and 
cautious manner he approached until he was within ten yards of 
it ; where, hidden behind a stump, he attentively reconnoitred. 
The result was indecisive. He could not possibly succeed in 
discovering whether the pickets were Federal or Confederate ; 

and in relating his adventure afterwards, Lieutenant W 

declared that his heart now throbbed with greater anxiety than 
at any other time during the whole affair. He continued for 
some time thus crouching behind the stump, and his doubt was 
painful and protracted. At last it came to an end ; he breathed 
freely again. One of the men rose from the ground, yawned, 
and said : "I don't believe there will be a Yankee on this side 
of the river by the morning." 

Whereupon Lieutenant W rose up, approached the fire, 

and, with a laugh, made himself known, to the profound asto- 
nishment and confusion of the sleepy pickets, who had thus 
received a practical illustration of the ease with which an enemy 
might approach and send a bullet through their hearts. They, 

however, received Lieutenant W with military hospitality, 

gave him a portion of their rations, divided their blankets ; and 
overcome with fatigue, he lay down and slept until daylight. 
Before sunrise he was at General Stuart's headquarters, and was 
relating his curious adventure, to the huge amusement of the 
laughing cavalier. He was without horse, arms, or other clothes 
than those which he wore ; but he was free, and he had his spurs, 
carried throughout against his naked breast. 

Such was the adventure of Lieutenant W , and such the 

means he used in making his escape. The narrative may appear 
romantic, but I assure the reader that it is literally true. 



VII. 
TO GETTYSBURG AND BACK AGAIN. 



I. 

" Ho ! for the Valley ! " 

This was the somewhat dramatic exclamation of Major-Gene- 
ral J. E. B. Stuart, about the 24th of June, 1863, as he got into 
the saddle at the little village of Eector's Cross-E.oads, between 
Middleburg and Upperville, and turned his horse's head west- 
ward toward the Blue Ridge mountains. 

If the worthy reader will return in memory to that epoch, and 
recall the route which the gay cavalier speedily directed his 
column over, the words above quoted will appear somewhat 
mysterious. " The situation " at the moment may be described 
in a very few words ; for the full record, see the "historian of 
the future." After the crushing defeat of Chancellorsville, 
General Hooker cut behind him the pontoons covered with pine 
boughs, to deaden the noise of his artillery wheels in crossing, 
and took up a strong position on the northern bank of the Rap- 
pahannock to repulse the expected onslaught of his great adver- 
sary, Lee. No such attack, however, was intended. Lee pre- 
ferred to manoeuvre his opponent out of Virginia — it was the 
more bloodless proceeding — and very soon the soldiers of the 
army understood that " Lee was moving." 

A grand review of the cavalry was ordered, near Culpeper 
Court-House, and General Fitz Lee politely sent an invitation to 
General Hood to attend it, and "bring any of his friends." A 
day or two afterwards, Hood appeared with his great division, 



TO GETTYSBUEG AND BACK AGAIN. 237 

announcing that these were all " his friends," and he thought he 
would bring them along. The review duly took place east of 
the Court-House. The squadrons of cavalry charged — General 
Stuart and his staff in front; cannon thundered in mimic con- 
flict ; the sun shone ; bright eyes flashed ; and beneath the 
Confederate banner, rippling on its lofty pole, the Commander- 
in-Chief sat his iron-gray, looking on. Festivities at the Court- 
House followed ; the youngsters of the army had a gay dance 
with the young ladies from the country round ; and almost in 
the midst of the revelry, as at Brussels on the night of Waterloo, 
the thunder of artillery was heard from the direction of Fleet- 
wood Hill, near Brandy. In fact, Stuart had been assailed there 
by the elite of the Federal infantry and cavalry, under some of 
their ablest commanders — the object of the enemy being to as- 
certain, by reconnoissance in force, what all the hubbub of the 
review signified — and throughout the long June day, they threw 
themselves, with desperate gallantry, against the Southern 
horse — ^no infantry on our side taking part in the action. Colonel 
Williams was killed ; Captain Farley, of Stuart's staff, was 
killed ; Captain White, of the staff, too, was wounded ; Colonel 
Butler was wounded ; General W. H. F. Lee was shot down at 
the head of his charging column; and Stuart himself was more 
than once completely surrounded. For three hours the battle 
was " touch and go ; " but thanks to the daring charges of Young 
and Lee, the enemy were driven ; they slowly and sullenlj'' re- 
tired, leaving the ground strewed with their dead, and at night- 
fall were again beyond the Eappahannock. 

The trumpet of battle had thus been sounded ; action followed. 
Lee put his columns in motion for Pennsylvania ; Stuart ad- 
vanced with his cavalry to hold the country east of the Blue 
Ridge, and guard the passes as the long column moved through ; 
and then commenced a war of the giants between the opposing 
horse of the Federal and Confederate armies. It was a matter of 
grave importance that Hooker should undo the designs of Lee ; 
and mighty efforts were made to burst through the cavalry 
cordon, and strike the flank of the moving army. Stuart was, 
however, in the way. On all the roads was his omnipresent 



238 WEARING OF THE GIIAY. 

cavalry, under the daring Hampton, Fitz Lee, the gay and gal- 
lant cavalier, and others as resolute. Everywhere the advance 
of the enemy's cavalry was met and driven back until about the 
twentieth of June. Then a conclusive trial of strength took 
place. A grand reconnoitring force, composed of a division of 
infantry under General Birney, I believe, and several divisions 
of cavalry, with full supports of artillery, was pushed forward 
from Aldie ; Stuart was assailed simultaneously along about 
fifteen miles of front ; and in spite of his most strenuous efforts, 
he was forced slowly to fall back toward the Ridge. This was 
one of the most stubborn conflicts of the war; and on every 
hill, from the summit of every knoll, Stuart fought with artil- 
lery, cavalry, and dismounted sharpshooters, doggedly struggling 
to hold his ground. The attempt was vain. Behind the heavy 
lines of Federal skirmishers advanced their dense columns of 
cavalry ; behind the cavalry were seen the bristling bayonets of 
their infantry ; from the right, the left, and the front, thundered 
their excellently served artillery. Stuart was pushed from hill 
to hill, the enemy came on mile after mile, and at Upperville a 
great disaster seemed imminent. The Federal forces closed in 
on front and flanks, made a desperate attack with the sabre, 
and the result seemed about to be decided. Stuart was in the 
very hottest of the press, sword in hand, determined evidently 
to repulse the enemy or die, and his black feather was the mark 
of a hundred pistol-balls — his rich uniform clearly indicating 
his rank to the Fedend troopers almost in contact with him. 
This was the depressing situation of affairs — the centre driven, 
and the column on the Bloomfield road falling rapidly back on 
the left, thus exposing the main body to imminent danger of 
being cut off, when the Deus ex macMnd appeared in the person 
of Wade Hampton. That good cavalier saw the crisis, formed his 
column under the heavy fire, and taking command in person, 
went at them with the sabre, scarcely firing a shot. The result 
was that the Federal line was swept back, the elite of the 
charging force put hors du combat by the edge of the sabre, and 
the Southern column fell back toward Paris, in the mouth of 
Ashby's Gap, without further difficulty. 



TO GETTYSBURG AND BACK AGAIN. 239 

The enemy had accomplished their object, and they had not 
accomplished it. Stuart was forced to retire, but they had not 
succeeded in penetrating to the Ridge. No doubt the presence of 
infantry there was discovered or suspected, but otherwise the 
great reconnoissance was unproductive of substantial results. 

On the same night they retired. Stuart followed them at 
dawn with his whole force ; and by mid-day he was in possession 
of Middleburg, several miles in advance of his position on the 
day before. 

Such was the quick work of these two days. 



II. 

It was about three days after these events that Stuart sprang 
with a gay laugh to saddle, turned his horse's head tvestward, 
and uttered that exclamation : 

" Ho I for the Valley I " 

l^ow, if the reader will permit, I beg to descend from the 
lofty heights of historic summary to the level champaign of my 
personal observations and adventures. From the h'eights alluded 
to, you see a long distance, and distinguish the " important 
events " in grand outline ; but in the level you are greeted by 
more of the colouring of what occurs. In this paper I design 
recording some scenes and incidents as they passed before my 
own eyes, rather than to sum up fads m " official " form. A 
memoir rather than a history is intended ; and as a human 
being can only remember what he has seen and felt, the present 
writer — even at the risk of being charged with egotism — is going 
to confine himself, as closely as possible, to his own adventures 
and impressions de voyage. 

" Ho for the Yalley I " was a truly delightful exclamation to 
me. Bright eyes of various colours shone there by the Shenan- 
doah and Opequon ; there were some voices whose music I had 
not heard for a long time. The prospect now of seeing the eyes, 
and hearing the voices, banished every other thought, even the 
remembrance of that heavy misfortune of having had my mili- 



240 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

tary satchel, with all I possessed in the way of a wardrobe, cap- 
tured by the enemy a few days before when they drove us from 
the Cross-Roads. There could certainly be no doubt about the 
General's meaning. He had turned his horse toward the Ridge. 
" Ho 1 for the Valley ! " indicated his intended line of march ; 
he, like myself, was going to see his good friends all in that land 
of lands along the Shenandoah. 

Alas !^and whenever that pithy word is employed by a writer, 
the reader knows what he has to expect. General Stuart had 
scarcely got out of sight of the village, carolling a gay song as 
he rode, when the disconsolate staff-officer, beside him observed a 
movement of the General's left rein ; his horse cleared a fence ; 
and ten minutes afterwards he was riding rapidly eastward^ in a 
direction precisely opposite to the Blue Ridge. The General had 
practised a little ruse to blind the eyes of the Cross-Roads villagers 
— was doubling on the track ; he was going after General 
Hooker, then in the vicinity of Mana«6as, and thence — whither ? 

We bivouacked by the roadside under some pines that night, 
advanced before dawn, drove a detachment of the enemy from 
Glasscock's Gap, in the Bull Run mountain, and pushed on to 
cut off" any force which lingered in the gorge of Thoroughfare Gap. 
When cavalry undertake to cut off infantry, the process is excit- 
ing, but not uniformly remunerative. It was the rear of Han- 
cock's corps which we struck not far from Haymarket ; there, 
passing rapidly toward Manassas, about eight hundred yards off, 
were the long lines of wagons and artillery ; and behind these 
came on the dense blue masses of infantry, the sunshine lighting 
up their burnished bayonets. 

Stuart hastened forward his artillery ; it opened instantly upon 
the infantry, and the first shot crashed into a caisson, making the 
horses rear and run ; the infantry line bending backward as 
though the projectile had struck it. This " good shot " highly 
delighted the General, who turned round laughing, and called 
attention to the accuracy of the fire. The individual addressed 
laughed in response, but replied, " Look out, though ; they are 
going to enfilade you from that hill on the right. General." 
" Oh ! I reckon not," responded the General ; but he had scarce- 



TO GETTYSBUEG AND BACK AGAIN. 211 

ly spoken when a puff of white smoke rose from the wooded 
knoll in question, and a shot screamed by, just grazing the top 
of one of our caissons near the guns. This was followed by 
another and another ; the enemy were seen hastily forming 
line, and advancing sharpshooters; whereupon Stuart ordered 
back his guns, and dismounted cavalry to meet them. 

A running fight ; enemy merely holding their flank intact; 
soon the line had passed on and disappeared ; the cavalry saw 
vanish safely all those tantalizing wagons filled with good, rich 
forage, and who knew what beside. Stuart meanwhile had sent 
off Mosby, with a party of picked men, to reconnoitre, and was 
sleeping with his head upon an officer's breast — to the very 
extreme discomfort of that personage, whose profound respect for 
his sleepy military superior prevented him from changing his 
position. 

With night came rain, and the General and his staff were 

invited to the handsome mansion of Dr. , near Bucklands, 

where all slept under cover but Stuart. Everywhere he insisted 
on faring like his men ; and I well remember the direction given 
to his body-servant a few days before, to spread his blankets 
under a tree on a black and stormy night with the rain descend- 
ing in torrents — the house in which he had established his head- 
quarters being only twenty paces from the tree. On this night 
at Bucklands he repeated the ceremony, but a gay supper pre- 
ceded it. 

That supper is one of the pleasant memories the present writer 
has of the late war. How the good companions laughed and 
devoured the viands of the hospitable host ! How the beautiful 
girls of the family stood with mock submission, servant-wise, 
behind the chairs, and waited on the guests with their sweetest 
smiles, until that reversal of all the laws of the universe became 
a perfect comedy, and ended in an eclat of laughter ! Greneral 
and staff waited in turn on the waiters ; and when the tired 
troopers fell asleep on the floor of the portico, it is certain that a 
number of bright eyes shone in their dreams. Such is the 
occasional comedy which lights up the tragedy of war. 

The bugle sounded ; we got into the saddle again ; the col- 

16 



242 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

umns moved ; and that evening we had passed around Manassas, 
where Hooker's rear force still lingered, and were approaching 
Fairfax Station through the great deserted camps near Wolf 
Kun Shoals. The advance pushed on through the wild and 
desolate locality, swarming with abandoned cabins and army 
debris ; and soon we had reached the station, which is not far 
from the Court- House. 

Here took place a little incident, known afterwards among the 
present writer's friends as the " Cherry-Pie Breakfast." A brief 
notice of this historic occurrence may entertain the reader. 
Three members of the staff and a young courier left the column 
to seek a blacksmith, whose services were needed ; and the house 
of this worthy was found about hstlf a mile east of the station. 
He was a friend of the gray, prompt and courteous, and soon 
was busy at the hoofs of the horses ; his good wife meanwhile 
getting breakfast for the party. It was speedily served, and 
consisted of every delicacy — bread of all descriptions, fresh but- 
ter, yellow cream, sweetmeats, real coffee, then an extreme 
luxury, and some cherry pies, which caused the wandering staff 
officers to break forth into exclamations of rapture. A heavy 
attack was made upon all, and our "bluebird" friends them- 
selves, fond as they are said to be of the edible, could not have 
surpassed the devotion exhibited toward the cherry pies. At 
the end of the repast one of the party, in the enthusiasm of the 
moment, piled up several pieces of the pie, drew out his purse, 
and determined to carry off the whole for future consumption ; 
whereat a friendly contest occurred between himself and the 
excellent dame, who could not be induced to receive pay from 
any member of the party for her entertainment. " She had 
never charged a Confederate soldier a cent, and never meant to." 

All this was peaceful and pleasing ; but all at once there was 
a stir in the yard, and without securing the pie, we went out. 
Lo ! a gentleman in a blue coat and mounted was seen rapidly 
approaching below the house, followed by others. 

" Look out ! " said Major V ; " there are the Yankees I " 

" They are running by — they won't stop. What are you 
going to do ? " I said. 



TO GETTYSBURG AND BACK AGAIN. 243 

"I am going to put the bridle on my horse ! " 

And the Major bridled up and mounted rapidly. 

" Well, I am going to wait to have the shoes put on mine." 
* Idle and absurd intent! Even as I spoke, the party scat- 
tered, Major V galloping to the right. Major Mc to 

the left, with the courier. A single glance revealed the " situ- 
ation." Another party of blue-coats were rushing at full gallop 
toward the house from above. Shots suddenly resounded. 
"Hi! hi! halt!" followed; and I had just time to mount and 
pass at full speed across the front of the party, pursued by more 
shots and " hi-hi's ! " Admire, reader, the spectacle of the stam- 
peded staff officers ! My friend in front resembled the worthy 
Gilpin, with a pistol holster for the jug — his horse's tail " float- 
ing free," and every nail in the hind shoes of the animal visible 
as he darted headlong toward the protecting woods ! We 
plunged through a swamp, jumped fences and fallen trees, and 
reaching the forest-cover, penetrated a thicket, and stopped to 
listen. The shouts died away; no sound of hoofs came, and 
doubling back, we came again to the station to find the meaning 
of everything. Stuart had been quietly waiting there for his 
column, with the bridle out of his horse's mouth, in order that 
the animal might champ some " Yankee oats," when all at once a 
scouting-party had come at full gallop from the direction of the 
Court-House. Before he was aware of their approach, they 
were nearly upon him ; he had just had time to escape by seizing 
the halter and digging the spurs into his horse. 

Then the scouting party, finding the size of the hornets' nest 
into which they had leaped, turned their horses' heads eastward, 
bore down on the blacksmith's whither we had gone, interrupted 
the " cherry-pie breakfast," and vanished toward Sanxter's, chas- 
ing Major V until he came up with Munford. When our 

probable capture was announced to General Stuart, and a squa- 
dron requested for our recovery, I am sorry to say that the 
General responded with a laugh, " Oh ! they are too intelligent 
to be caught!" and when the incident of the abandonment of 
the cherry-pie was related to Stuart, he enjoyed it in a remarl?- 
able degree I 



244 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

Do you remember still, my dear companions, that good cherry- 
pie breakfast, the chase which followed, and the laughter of 
Stuart ? That was a jovial trip we made across the border in 
the good year 1863 ; and the days and nights were fall of inci- 
dent and adventure. Do you find the present year, 1866, as 
"gay and happy" as its predecessor ? I do not. 



III. 

Our mishap above related was truly unfortunate. It gave the 
advance-guard the start, and when we reached Fairfax Court- 
Hoase, they had rifled the public store-houses and sutlers' shops 
of their entire contents. 

It was impossible to forbear from laughing at the spectacle 
which the cavalry column presented. Every man had on a 
white straw hat, and a pair of snowy cotton gloves. Every 
trooper carried before him upon the pommel of his saddle a bale 
of smoking tobacco, or a drum of figs ; every hand grasped a pile 
of ginger-cakes, which were rapidly disappearing. But hospi- 
tality to the rear-guard was the order of the day. We did not 
suJBfer. The mishaps of my comrades and myself had in some 
manner become known, and we were greeted with shouts of 
laughter, but with soldierly generosity too. Every hand prof- 
fered a straw hat of the most elegant pattern, or a pair of gloves 
as white as the driven snow. Every comrade held out his figs, 
pressed on his cakes, or begged us to try his smoking tobacco — 
which I am compelled to say was truly detestable. 

Such was the gay scene at Fairfax Court-House when Stuart 
entered the place. 

The cavalry did not stop long. Soon the column was again 
moving steadily towards the Potomac, intelligence having ar- 
rived that General Hooker's main body had passed that river 
at Leesburg. What would Stuart do — what route would he 
now follow ? There were few persons, if any, in the entire com- 
mand, who could reply to that question. Cross at Leesburg? 
•To merely follow up Hooker while Hooker followed up Lee^ 



TO GETTYSBURG AND BACK AGAIN. 245 

was very unlike Stuart. Strike across for the Blue Ridge, and 
cross at Shepherdstown ? That would lose an immense amount 
of invaluable time and horse-flesh. Cross below Leesburg ? That 
seemed impossible with the artillery, and difficult even for 
cavalry. The river was broad, deep, with a rocky and uneven 
bed ; and so confident were the enemy of the impossibility of our 
crossing there, that not a picket watched the stream. 

Stuart's design was soon developed. "We reached at nightfall 
an elevation not far from the Great Falls — the spot laid down 
on the maps as Matildaville, or near it — Stuart riding with staff 
and advance guard far in front. The latter pushed on — the rest 
stopping — when all at once shots came from the front, and Stuart 
called out cheerily to the staff: "Look out! Here they come! 
Give it to them with pistols ! " The bang of carbines followed : 
a squadron hastened to the front, and opened fire ; and in the 
midst of it Stuart said, " Tell Hampton — ^you can follow his trail 
— that Chambliss is up, and Fitz Lee coming." The " trail" was 
plain in the moonlight ; I followed it ; and reaching the Poto- 
mac just above the Falls, found Hampton crossing. 

The spectacle was picturesque. The broad river glittered in 
the moon, and on the bright surface was seen the long, wavering 
line of dark figures, moving " in single file ; " the water washing 
to and fro across the backs of the horses, which kept their feet 
with difficulty. The hardest portion of the task was crossing 
the cannon of the horse-artillery. It seemed impossible to get 
the limbers and caissons over without wetting, and so destroying 
the ammunition ; but the ready brain of Stuart found an expe- 
dient. The boxes were quickly unpacked ; every cavalry-man 
took charge of a shell, case, or solid shot with the fixed cartridge; 
and thus held well aloft, the precious freight was carried over 
dry. Once on the other side,' the shell-bearers deposited the 
ammunition on the beach ; it was repacked in the caissons, which 
had been dragged by the plunging horses over the rocky bed in 
safety ; the guns followed ; the artillery was over I 

At Hanovertown, in Pennsylvania, two or three days after- 
wards, the cavalry did not by any means regret the trouble they 
had been put to in carrying over that ammunition " dry shod." 



246 "WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

Breathed thundered with it from the heights, and with shell 
after shell broke the heavy line advancing to the assault. 
Never was thunder sweeter and more musical ! But I antici- 
pate. 

The river was crossed ; also the Chesapeake and Ohio canal, 
by a narrow bridge ; and the cavalry halted for brief rest — the 
General and staff receiving open-handed hospitality from Mr. 

and his family ; those guardian angels of the soldier, the 

ladies, staying up all night to wait upon the weary gray-backs, 
and give them food. 

The column moved at dawn toward the " undiscovered land " 
of Star-and-Stripe-dom, in a northern direction, toward Rock- 
ville. It was not long before we came on the blue people. 
" Bang ! bang ! bang ! " indicated that the advance guard was 
charging a picket; the shots ended ; we pushed on, passing some 
dead or wounded forms, bleeding by the grassy roadside ; and 
the town of Rockville came in sight. The present writer pushed 
on after the advance guard, which had galloped through, and 
riding solus along a handsome street, came suddenly upon a 
spectacle which was truly pleasing. This was a seminary for 
young ladies, with open windows, open doors — and doors and 
windows were full and running over with the fairest specimens 
of the gentler sex that eye ever beheld. It was Sunday, and 
the beautiful girls in their fresh gaily coloured dresses, low necks, 
bare arms, and wildernesses of braids and curls, were "off duty" 
for the moment, and burning with enthusiasm to welcome the 
Southerner ; for Rockville, in radical parlance, was a " vile secesh 
hole." Every eye flashed, every voice exclaimed ; every rosy lip 
laughed ; every fair hand waved a handkerchief or a sheet of 
music (smuggled) with crossed Confederate flags upon the cover. 
The whole faQade of the building was a tulip-bed of brilliant 
colours, more brilliant eyes, and joy and welcome ! 

Pardon, friend, if you are of the " other faction," this little 
burst of enthusiasm, as I remember Rockville on that gay June 
morning. Pleasant it is in the dull hours of to-day to recall 
that scene ; and the bright eyes flash once more, the laughter 
again sounds ! 



TO GETTYSBURG AND BACK AGAIN. (247 

As the present historian drew near, riding as aforesaid, ahead 
of his commander, a beautiful girl of about sixteen rushed forth 
from the portico, pirouetting and clapping her hands in an 
ecstasy at the sight of the gray uniform, exclaiming, " Oh ! here 
is one of General Stuart's Aides ! " and finished by pulling some 
hair from the mane of my calm and philosophic old war-horse, 
on the expressly stated ground that he was " a Secession horse ! " 
Then General Stuart approached with his column — gay, laugh- 
ing, his blue eyes under the black feather full of the joy of the 
soldier ; and a wild welcome greeted him. The scene was one 
which beggars description, and it remains in my memory to-day 
as clearly as though cut deep in "monumental alabaster." 
Sweet faces, with the beautiful welcoming eyes, and smiling 
lips ! an ex-rebel — he who writes this page — takes off his hat 
and bows low to you, saluting you as the pearls of loveliness 
and goodness ! 

IV. 

Stuart did not tarry. In war there is little time for gallant 
words, and news had just reached us from the front which 
moved the column on like the sound of the bugle. 

This news was, that while we approached Eockville from the 
south, a mighty train of nearly two hundred wagons — new, 
fresh-painted, drawn each by six sleek mules, as became the 
" Reserve Forage Train " of the Department at Washington — 
had in like-manner approached from the east, intent on collect- 
ing forage. The rumour of the dread vicinity of the graybacks 
had come to them, however, blown on the wind ; the column of 
wagons had instantly " counter-marched " in the opposite direc- 
tion; they were now thundering at full gallop back toward 
Washington, pursued by the advance guard. 

Stuart's face flushed at the thought of capturing this splendid 
prize ; and shouting to a squadron to follow him, and the main 
column to push on, he went at a swift gallop on the track of the 
fleeing wagons. 

Soon we came up with them, and then commenced an iade- 



248 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

scribably grotesque scene. The irrimense train was seen covering 
the road for miles. Every team in full gallop, every wagon 
whirling onward, rebounding from rocks, and darting into the 
air, — one crashing against another " with the noise of thunder " — 
here one overturned, and lying with wheels upward, the mules 
struggling and kicking in the harness ; then one toppling over a 
steep bank, and falling with a loud crash : others burning, others 
still dashing for shelter to the woods, — the drivers cursing, yell- 
ing, lashing, blaspheming, howling amid the bang of carbines, 
the clatter of hoofs, and cries of " Halt ! halt ! halt ! " 

Stuart burst into laughter, and turning round, exclaimed : 
" Did you ever see anything like that in all your life ! " And I 
certainly never had. The grotesque ruled; the mules seemed 
wilder than the drivers. They had been cut by the score from 
the overturned wagons,- and now ran in every direction, kicking 
up at every step, sending their shrill cries upon the air, and pre- 
senting a spectacle so ludicrous that a huge burst of " Olympian 
laughter " echoed from end to end of the turnpike. 

Soon they were all stopped, captured, and driven to the rear 
by the aforesaid cursing drivers, now sullen, or laughing like the 
captors. All but those overturned. These were set on fire, and 
soon there rose for miles along the road the red glare of flames, 
and the dense smoke of the burning vehicles. They had been 
pursued within sight of Washington, and I saw, I believe, the 
dome of the capitol. That spectacle was exciting — and General 
Stuart thought of pushing on to make a demonstration against 
the defences. This, however, was given up ; and between the 
flames of the burning wagons we pushed back to Rockville, 
through which the long line of captured vehicles, with their 
sleek, rosetted mules, six to each, had already defiled, amid the 
shouts of the inhabitants. Those thus " saved " were about one 
hundred in number. 

The column moved, and about ten that night reached Brook- 
ville, where the atmosphere seemed Southern, like that of Rock- 
ville, for a bevy of beautiful girls thronged forth with baskets of 
cakes, and bread and meat, and huge pitchers of ice-water — pene- 
trating fearlessly the press of trampling hoofs and ministering 



TO GETTYSBURG AND BACK AGAIN. 249 

to the necessities of the rebels with undisguised satisfaction. 
If the fair girl living in the handsome mansion below Mr. 
Hamilton's, remembers still to whom she insisted upon presenting 
nine cups of coffee with every delicacy, the rebel in question 
begs to assure her of his continued gratitude for her kindness. 
At Brookville some hundreds of prisoners — the greater part cap- 
tured by General Wickham in a boat at the Potomac — were 
paroled and started for Washington, as an act of humanity. 

At one o'clock in the morning §tuart mounted and moved on, 
speedily falling asleep in the saddle, and tottering from side to 
side. In this he was not alone ; and I remember the laughable 

spectacle of Major M , sitting grave, erect, and motionless upon 

his horse in front of a country store by the roadside, to which 
the animal had made his way and halted. The Major seemed to 
be waiting — for somebody, or something — meanwhile he was snor- 
ing. Moving steadily on, the column approached Westminster, 
and here Fitz Lee, who was in advance, found the enemy drawn 
up in the street awaiting him. A charge quickly followed, 
carbines banged, and the enemy gave way — but we left behind, 
lying dead by the roadside. Lieutenants Murray and Gibson, two 
of our best ofl&cers, shot dead in the skirmish. The enemy were 
pursued at full gallop through the town, to their camp on the 
heights to the west ; the camp was taken with all its con- 
tents — and the bugles of Fitz Lee, sounding on the wind from the 
breezy upland, told that he had driven the Federal cavalry before 
him. Westminster was ours. 

Stuart took possession, but was not greeted with much cor- 
diality. Friends, and warm ones, met us, but they had a " hack- 
ed" demeanour, and many of them spoke under their breath. 
Westminster was evidently " Union," but some families warmly 
welcomed us — others scowled. The net results of the capture 
of the place were — one old dismounted gun of the " Quaker " 
order on a hill near the cavalry camp aforesaid, and a United 
States jQag taken from the vault of the Court- House, with the 
names of the ladies who had made it worked across each star. 
What became of this I do not know. We left the town that 
night, bivouacked in the rain by the roadside, pushed on at 



250 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

dawn, and were soon in Pennsylvania, where details were imme- 
diately sent out to seize horses. These, as I saw them pass in 
great numbers, were large, fat, sleek, and apparently excellent. 
I was not long, however, in discovering that they were worthless 
as riding-horses ; one of the thin, wiry, rawboned Virginia horses, 
half the weight of these Conestogas, would wear out a dozen. 
One had "blood," the other had not — and blood will tell. 

We were enemies here, but woman, the angelic, still succoured 
us ; woman, without shoes or stockings often, and speaking 
Dutch, but no less hospitable. One of them presented me with 
coifee, bread spread with " apple-butter " — and smiles. I don't 
think the Mynheers found the gray people very fierce and 
bloody. The horses were appropriated; but beyond that no- 
thing — the very necks of the chickens went un wrung. 

The column was in high glee thus far, and the men were 
rapidly receiving "remounts." No enemy approached — your 
old soldier never very bitterly laments that circumstance ; but 
all at once as we approached Hanovertown, we stirred up the 
hornets. Chambliss — that brave soul who afterwards fell heroi- 
cally fighting in Charles City — at the head of the Ninth Virginia 
drove in their pickets; and he had just swept on down the 
heights toward the town, whose steeples shone before us 
nestling beneath the mountain, when Stuart in person rode up 
rapidly. 

" Well, General," I said, " Chambliss has driven them, and is 
going right on." 

"Good!" was Stuart's reply. "Tell him to push on and 
occupy the town, but not to pursue them too far." 

These words were impressed upon my memory by the sequel, 
which laughably but very disagreeably reversed the General's 
expectations. Hastening down the declivity with the order for 
Chambliss, I found him advancing rapidly in column of fours to 
charge the enemy, who were drawn up in the outskirts of the 
town. Before he could issue the order it was rendered some- 
what nugatory by the blue people in front. We had supposed 
their force to be small, but it was now seen to be heavy. They 
swarmed everywhere, right, left, and front ; rapidly formed lino 



TO GETTYSBURG AND BACK AGAIN. 251 

of battle, and delivering a sharp volley at short range in 
the faces of the Confederates, made a gallant and headlong 
charge. 

The result made it unnecessary to warn the men not to " pur- 
sue too far." They met the charge sabre to sabre ; a hot conflict 
ensued, but the enemy pressing on with unbroken front in heavy 
force, the Ninth fell back in good order to the higher ground in 
their rear, keeping off" the assailants at the edge of the sabre. 
The road over which they made this " retrograde " was narrow, 
and the meUe of trampling hoofs, shouts, and sabre-cuts, was more 
exciting than amusing. Men fell all around before the fire of 
the excellent Spencer rifles of the enemy ; and while gallantly 
rallying the men, Captain John Lee was shot through the arm. 
To add to the disagreeable character of the situation, I now 
observed General Stuart in person, and unattended, coming 
across the field to the right at full gallop, pursued by a detach- 
ment of cavalry who fired on him as they came, and as I reached 
his side his fice was stormy, his voice irate. 

" Have the artillery put in position yonder on the road ; tell 
it to open ! " was his brief order. 

And in a few minutes it was hurried forward, and opened 
fire. Returning to the field in which I had left the Greneral, I 
found him the second time " falling back " before a hotter pur- 
suit than the first. The Federal cavalry-men, about a company, 
were nigh upon him as he galloped across the field ; shots 
whistled ; orders to halt resounded ; but it may be understood 
that it was inconvenient to comply. We went on headlong, 
leaped a tremendous ravine with the enemy almost in contact, 
and following a friendly lane where the rails were down, reached 
the slope where the artillery had just opened its thunders. 

This checked the enemy's further advance, and Hampton hav- 
ing opened on the right, things settled down somewhat. We 
had evidently waked up a real hornets' nest, however. Long 
columns of blue cavalry were seen defiling down the mountain, 
and advancing to the front, and a heavy force was observed 
closing in on the left. All at once the edge of the town swarmed 
with blue figures ; a heavy line was seen advancing, and soon 



252 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

this line pushed on with cheers, to charge the artillery on the 
heights. 

Breathed replied by opening upon them with shell and canis- 
ter. The first shell burst in the line; the second near the first; 
and the third made it waver. A more rapid fire succeeded ; 
everything depended upon these few moments, and then the line 
was seen slowly retiring. At the same instant intelligence came 
that the force on the left was Fitz Lee, who had come in on 
that flank ; and the continuous thunder of Hampton on the 
right showed plainly that in that direction all was well. This 
advance of the Federal sharpshooters was one of the finest sights 
I ever beheld ; and at one moment I thought Breathed's guns 
would never leave that field of tall rye where they were vomit- 
ing fire and smoke — under the command of this gallant Major 
at least. Whether this historian also would succeed in retiring 
without capture seemed equally doubtful, as he had mounted a 
huge Conestoga — fat, sleek, elephantine, and unwieldy — a phi- 
losophic animal who stood unmoved by the cannon,, never blink- 
ing at the discharges, and appeared superior to all the excite- 
ments of the moment. Breathed's fire, however, repulsed the 
charge ; and as night drew on, Stuart set his column in motion — 
the wagons in the centre — toward Jefferson. One ludicrous 
scene at that moment I perfectly remember, A fat Dutchman 
who had been lounging about, and reconnoitring the strength, 
etc., of the Confederate force, was regarded as too well informed 
to be left behind with the enemy ; and this worthy was accord- 
ingly requested to "come along" on the back of a huge Cones- 
toga. This request he treated with calm disregard, when a 
cavalry-man made a tremendous blow at him, which caused him 
to mount in hot haste, with only a halter to guide his elephant. 
He had no sooner done so than the Conestoga ran off, descended 
the slope at full speed, bounded elepli ant- wise over an enormous 
ditch — and it was only by clinging close with knees and hands 
that the Dutchman kept his seat. Altogether, the spectacle was 
one to tickle the ribs of death. The last I saw of the captive, 
he was in the very centre of the cavalry column, which was 
moving at a trot, and he was swept on with it; passing away 



TO GETTYSBURG AND BACK AGAIN. 253 

for ever from the eyes of this historian, who knows not what 
became of him thereafter. 

The sun began to decline now, and we rode, rode, rode — the 
long train of wagons strung out to infinity, it seemed. At dark 
the little village of Jefferson was reached — of which metropolis 
I recall but one souvenir. This was a pretty Dutch girl, who 
seemed not at all hostile to the gray people, and who willingly 
prepared me an excellent supper of hot bread, milk, coffee, and 
eggs fried temptingly with bacon. She could not speak English 
— she could only look amiable, smile, and murmur unintelligible 
words in an unknown language. I am sorry to say, that I do not 
recall the supper with a satisfaction as unalloyed. I was sent 
by the General to pass somebody through his pickets, and on my 
return discovered that I was the victim of a cruel misfortune. 
The young hostess had placed my supper on a table in a small 
apartment, in which a side door opened on the street ; through 
this some felonious personage had entered — hot bread, milk, 
coffee, eggs, and ham, had vanished down some hungry cavalry- 
man's throat. 

Mounting despondingly, I followed the column, which had 
again begun to move, and soon reached the village of New 
Salem. 



Y. 

It was nearly midnight when we arrived at this small village ; 
and, to continue my own personal recollections, the village 
tavern appeared to present a favourable opportunity to redeem 
my misfortune at Jefferson. 

It was proposed, accordingly, to the General that he should 
stop there and procure some coffee, of which he was very fond — 
and as he acceded to this cheerfully, I applied to the burly land- 
lord, who responded encouragingly. In a quarter of an hour the 
coffee was ready ; also some excellent ale ; also some bread and 
the inseparable " apple butter," or " spreading," as the Pennsyl- 
vanians call this edible. When General Stuart had emptied his 



264 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

coffee-cup — which always put the stout cavalier in a gay humour 
— he laughed, mounted his horse, and said to me : 

" By the by, suppose you stay here until Hampton comes 
along ; I am going on with Fitz Lee. Tell Hampton to move 
on steaclily on the road to Dover, and show him the way." 

With these words, the General rode away on the track of 
General Fitz Lee, and the present writer was left solus, to "hold 
the position alone" at Salem. This position, it speedily ap- 
peared, was not wholly desirable. The advance division under 
Lee had pushed on several miles ahead — there was not a single 
cavalryman beside myself in Salem — and Hampton was several 
miles behind. To add to the charms of the " situation," there 
were a number of extremely cut-throat looking individuals of the 
" other faction" lounging about the porch, eyeing the lonely 
"Confederate askance, and calculating apparently the chance of 
"suppressing" him without danger — and the individual in this 
disagreeable situation was nearly dead for want of sleep. 

There appeared, however, to be very little real hostility— such 
as I imagine would have been exhibited by the inhabitants of a 
Southern village had an officer of the U. S, army been left 
behind under similar circumstances. Doubtless the hangers-on 
were impressed with the conviction that in case the wandering 
staff-officer did not rejoin his command, General Stuart would 
return to look for him, torch in hand, when the village of New 
Salem would make its exit in a bonfire. The portly landlord, 
especially, appeared to be a real philosopher ; and when asked 
the meaning of a distant noise, replied with a laugh, " Some of 
your people tearing up the railroad, I guess!" 

In spite of the worthy's strong coffee and the unpleasing ex- 
pression of eye in the crowd around, I was just dropping asleep 
in my chair on the porch, when the clatter of hoofs resounded, 
and the voice of General Hampton was heard in the darkness, 
asking if there was any one there to direct him. This sound 
aroused me, and in a few moments I was riding with the brave 
cavalier at the head of his column toward Dover. Toward dawn 
General Hampton halted, and I asked if he was going to stop. 

" Yes, for a little while — I am perishing for sleep." 



TO GETTYSBURG AND BACK AGAIN. 255 

And with these words the General proceeded to a haystack 
near the road, pulled down some of the hay, Wrapped himself in 
his cape, and in a few minutes was fast asleep — his companion 
exactly imitating hira. 

At daylight we reached the straggling little village of Dover, 
where more prisoners were paroled ; thence proceeded through 
a fine country towards Carlisle ; at Dillstown procured dinner 
from the landlord of the principal tavern, a philosophic Mr. Mil- 
ler, whose walls were covered with pictures of black trotters in 
skeleton conveyances, making rapid time ; and at night reached 
Carlisle, which General Stuart immediately summoned to sur- 
render by flag of truce. 

The reply to this was a flat refusal from General Smith ; and 
soon a Whitworth gun in the town opened, and the Southern 
guns replied. This continued for an hour or two, when the U. S. 
barracks were fired, and the light fell magnificently upon the 
spires of the city, presenting an exquisite spectacle. 

Meanwhile, the men were falling asleep around the guns, and 
the present writer slept very soundly within ten feet of a battery 

hotly firing. Major R leaned against a fence within a few 

paces of a howitzer in process of rapid discharge, and in that up- 
right position " forgot his troubles." The best example, however, 
was one which General Stuart mentioned. He saw a man climb 
a fence, put one leg over, and in that position drop asleep ! 

Any further assault upon Carlisle was stopped by a very sim- 
ple circumstance. General Lee sent for the cavalry. He had 
recalled Early from York ; moved with his main column east of 
the South Mountain, toward the village of Gettysburg ; and 
Stuart was wanted. In fact, during the afternoon of our ad- 
vance to Carlisle — the first of July — the artillery fire of the "first 
day's fight" was heard, and referring to Lloyd's map, I supposed 
it to be at Gettysburg, a place of which I had no knowledge. 
How unexpected was the concentration of the great opposing 
forces there, will appear from General Stuart's reply, " I reckon 
not," when the firing was spoken of as " near Gettysburg." No 
one then anticipated a battle there — Generals Lee and Meade 
almost as little as the rest. 



256 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

In spite of the broken-down condition of his command, Stuart 
moved at once — and whole columns went to sleep in the saddle. 
Pennsylvania had so far proved to us a veritable " Land of 
Drowsy -head !" 

This night march was the most severe I ever experienced. The 
long succession of sleepless nights had prostrated the strongest, 
and General Stuart and his staff moving without escort on the 
Willstown road, passed over mile after mile asleep in the saddle. 
At dawn, the General dismounted in a clump of trees by the 
roadside ; said, " I am going to sleep two hours ; " and wrapping 
himself in his cape simply leaned agai^nst a tree and was immedi- 
ately asleep. Everybody imitated him, and I was awakened by 
the voice of one of the couriers, who informed me that " the 
General was gone." Such was the fact— Stuart had risen punc- 
tually at the end of the two hours, stretched himself, mounted, 
and ridden on solus, a wandering Major- General in the heart of 
Pennsylvania ! In the afternoon the cavalry were at Gettysburg. 



VI. 

General Stuart arrived with his cavalry on the evening of the 
"second day's fight" at Gettysburg, and took position on the 
left of Ewell, whose command composed the left wing of the 
army. 

All Stuart's energies were now bent to acquire an accurate 
idea of the ground, and hold the left against the enemy's horse, 
who were active and enterprising. In reconnoitring their posi- 
tion on the railroad, he was suddenly fired upon at close quar- 
ters — the bullets passing in dangerous proximity — and having 
thus satisfied himself of the enemy's whereabouts, the General 
returned to his impromptu headquarters, namely a tree on the 
side of the Heidelburg road, about a mile from the town. Mean- 
while we had learned the particulars of the two hard fights — A. 
P. Hill's on the evening of the first of July ; and Longstreet's 
on the second, when he made that desperate flank attack on the 



TO GETTYSBURG AND BACK AGAIN. 257 

enemy's left at Eound Top, It is easy to see, now, that this as- 
sault was the turning point of the tremendous struggle. For 
thirty minutes the issue hung suspended in the balances, and 
there is some truth in the rhetorical flourish of a Northern verse- 
writer, to the effect that "the century reeled," when Longstreet 
paused on the brow of the hill. Had he gained possession of the 
Eound Top, General Meade's line would have been taken in 
flank and reverse ; he would doubtless have been forced to fall 
back to another position ; this would have been undertaken under 
the fire of the Southern cannon and muskets ; and once in mo- 
tion it is doubtful if the U. S. army could have been brought up 
to a new struggle. If not, Baltimore and Washington would 
speedily have been occupied by the Southern forces — the result 
of which would probably have been peace. 

But this is a long digression from the cavalry operations. The 
" third day " dawned ; Stuart took post with his cavalry on the 
extreme right and rear of the Federal forces — and the thunder 
opened. We could only hear the battle, not see it. The Fede- 
ral cavalry kept us quite busy. It was handled here with skill 
and gallantry — the heavy lines were seen to form, the officers 
galloping up and down ; three measured cheers were given by 
the men, apparently by formal military order, they were so 
regular; then the bugle sounded, and the blue horsemen came 
on shaking the ground with their trampling hoofs. The struggle 
was bitter and determined, but brief. For a moment the air was 
full of flashing sabres and pistol smoke, and a wild uproar 
deafened the ears ; then the Federal horse gave back, pursued 
by their opponents. We lost many good men, however ; among 
the rest, General Hampton was shot in the side, and nearly cut 
out of the saddle by a sabre stroke. Ten minutes before I had 
conversed with the noble South Carolinian, and he was full of 
life, strength, and animation. Now he was slowly being borne to 
the rear in his ambulance, bleeding from his dangerous wounds. 
General Stuart had a narrow escape in this charge, his pistol 
hung in his holster, and as he was trying to draw it, he received 
the fire of barrel after barrel from a Federal cavalryman within 
ten paces of him, but fortunately sustained no injury. 

17 



258 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

Having failed in this charge the enemy did not attempt 
another ; the lines remained facing each other, and skirmishing, 
while the long thunder of the artillery beyond, indicated the 
hotter struggle of Cemetery Hill. Pickett's Virginians, we after- 
wards knew, were making their " wild charge " at that moment : 
advancing into that gulf of fire from which so few were to re- 
turn ; Kemper was being shot down ; Armistead was falling as 
he leaped his horse over the Federal breastworks — the fate of 
Gettysburg was being decided. 

Night settled down, and still ignorant of the result, Stuart 
rode along the whole front where the sharpshooters were still 
firing. In the yard of a house there was a dead man lying, T 
remember, in a curious position — as men killed in battle often 
do — and another blue sharpshooter, who had been summoned 
to advance and surrender, was staggering up with his face all 
bloody. Such are the trifles which cling to the mernory. 

Eeturning through the darkness towards the Heidelburg road, 
an amusing discussion took place upon a somewhat interesting 
point. 

" General," said one of the staff, " we are travelling in the 
wrong direction — this road will lead you straight into the 
enemy's lines." 

" No," was Stuart's reply, " look at the stars." 

" Well, yonder is the North Star." 

"You are certainly mistaken." 

" I am sure I am not." 

" And I am sure you are ! However, we can easily decide." 

And the General drew from his pocket a small portable com- 
pass which he had carried with him on the prairies of the West, 
when in the U. S. army. The compass overthrew the General, 
and vindicated the good judgment of the staff officer. Laughter 
followed ; the direction of march was changed ; a wide ditch 
leaped ; and we gained the Heidelburg road — the staff pushing 
on intent on sleep, a single courier being left with the General. 
The sequel was amusing. The General went to sleep in the 
saddle : the courier rode on : and the General's horse not recog- 
nising headquarters in the dark, quietly walked on by, and 



TO GETTYSBURG AND BACK AGAIN. 259 

nearly carried Major-General Stuart into the cavalry pickets of 
the enemy. 

These minute details will, I fear, prove less interesting to the 
reader than to him who recalls them. The length of the narra- 
tive dictates, for the future, a more rapid summary. The third 
day's fight decided the event of Gettysburg, and General Lee fell 
back toward the Potomac, not very hotly pursued. Nothing 
is more erroneous than the idea that the Southern army was 
" demoralized " by the result of the bloody actions of these three 
memorable days. Their nerve was unshaken, their confidence 
in Lee and themselves unimpaired. Longstreet said truly that 
he desired nothing better than for General Meade to attack his 
position — that his men would have given the Federal troops a 
reception such as they had given Pickett. The stubborn resolu- 
tion of the Army of Northern Virginia was thus unbroken-^but 
the game was played for the time. The army was moving back, 
slow and defiant, to the Potomac. 

The cavalry protected its flanks and rear, fighting in the 
passes of South Mountain, and holding obstinatel}'' the ridge in 
front of Boonsboro, while General Lee formed his line to cover 
the crossing at Falling Waters and WilHamsport. Here, near 
Boonsboro, Stuart did some of his hardest fighting, and suc- 
cessfully held his ground, crowning every knoll with the guns 
of his horse artillery. When the infantry was in position, the 
cavalry retired, and took position on the flanks — the two armies 
faced each other, and a battle seemed imminent — when one 
morning General Meade discovered that General Lee was on the 
south bank of the Potomac. 

It is said that the Federal commander designed attacking Lee 
that day, against the opinion of his officers. What would have 
been the result ? That is a difficult question. A humble soldier 
of the Southern army may, however, be permitted to say that a 
rout of the army of Northern Virginia, under Lee, never seemed 
to him possible. Nor was it ever routed. It was starved^ and it 
surrendered. 

General Lee was thus over with his army, where provisions 
and ammunition were obtainable ; and the opposing forces 



260 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

rested. Then General Meade advanced, his great adversary 
made a corresponding movement, and about the first of August 
the cavalry were once more posted in Culpeper. 

In about six weeks they had marched many hundreds of 
miles ; fought a number of battles ; lost about one-third of their 
force by death in action, or disabling wounds ; and were again 
on the war-harried banks of the Rappahannock. 



vn. 



A few words will terminate this sketch of the summer cam- 
paign of 1863. 

Of this great ride with the cavalry through Pennsylvania, the 
present writer has preserved recollections rather amusing and 
grotesque, than sad or tragic. The anxiety expressed by a fat 
lady of Dutch origin, to secure a blue postage stamp with the 
head of President Davis upon it, a gentleman whom she evident- 
ly expected to find endued with horns and tail en Diahh ; the 
manner in which an exceedingly pretty damsel in a town 
through which the army was retreating, turned her back upon 
the writer, as he smiled respectfully upon catching her eye ; 
turned her back, tossed her head, and "looked daggers;" the 
air of hauteur and outraged feeling with which another refused 
to lend a coffee-pot, not even melting at the offender's low bow, 
and " I will not insist, madam " — these return to memory and 
make the recollection of those times more amusing than disa- 
greeable. "We were sore then, but time obliterates pain, and 
heals nearly every wound. There were harsh emotions, painful 
scenes, and bitter hostility ; but there were some of the amenities 
of war too ; among which I recall the obliging manner in which 

Major P , of the United States cavalry, enabled me to gratify 

some lady friends in Virginia. 

The Major was brought in to the headquarters — or bivouac, 
rather — in a grassy yard near Hagerstown, during the absence 
of Greneral Stuart, and whilst the present writer was in com- 



TO GETTYSBURG AND BACK AGAIN. 261 

mand. I found him very much of a gentleman ; laughed at his 
description of the manner in which he was captured — " Your 
men snapped a carbine at me, and then ' halted ' me ! " — and 
simply took his parole not to attempt escape, after which we lay 
down and slept on the grass, the major sharing my" blankets. 
On the next morning we were perfectly intimate ; and hearing 
me express a wish to secure some "greenbacks" for the pur- 
chase of small articles in Hagerstown, where Confederate money 
would not pass, the major politely pulled out his purse, declaring 
that he would exchange dollar for dollar " as he only wished to 
have enough of money to buy cigars in Eichmond." The 
comedy of the scene which ensued lay in the mutual anxiety 

of Major P and the present writer, lest each should wrong 

the other. Each was afraid he would get the advantage of his 
companion, and the polite speeches delivered on the occasion 
were truly admirable. An equitable arrangement was finally 
made. I came into possession of about forty dollars in Federal 
money, and with this bought out nearly the whole stock of lace, 
ribands, and handkerchiefs of a milliner's store, to the extreme 
but suppressed amusement of the young lady behind the coun- 
ter, who disinterestedly gave her advice in the selection. With 
this big bundle on the pommel of his saddle, the present writer 
made his exit from the State of Maryland ! 

Such, in rapid^and discursive, outline, was the march of the 
cavalry " to Gettysburg and back again," in that last year but 
one of the great civil war. Scores of miles were passed over, 
while the weary cavalry-man who writes this, slept in the sad- 
dle. So, it is no wonder Pennsylvania appears to him to-day 
like a land seen in a dream ! Gettysburg was, however, a rough 
waking, and over that far locality where the fate of the struggle 
was decided, a lurid cloud seems to hang, its edges steeped in 
blood. "Gettysburg! Gettysburg!" That murmur comes to 
the lips of many whose dear ones sleep their last sleep under the 
sod there ; but this souvenir is sad. Let me remember rather 
the gay laugh of Stuart ; the voices of Fitz Lee, Hampton, and 
their noble comrades ; the fun, the frolic, and the adventure of 



262 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

the long journey, when so much mirth lit up the dark horizon 
zon of war. 

It is a hard and brutal business, the trade of war ; but the 
odd, grotesque, and bizarre mix everywhere with the tears and 
the blood. All were mingled in tliis heavy work of the bustling 
year 1863: 



VIII 
FROM THE RAPIDAN TO FRYING PAN, 

IN OCTOBER, 1863. 



I. 

General Meade's retreat from Culpeper, in October, 1863, was 
one of the liveliest episodes of the late war. This officer was 
not unpopular in the Southern army. Few depredations were 
laid to his charge, and he was generally regarded as a fair and 
honorable opponent. There was evidently no rhodoraontade 
about him, and few trumpets were blown in his honour ; but 
General Lee is said to have declared that he had given him as 
much trouble as any Federal general of the war. Of his status 
as a soldier, let history speak. The present sketch will show, I 
think, that no general ever better understood the difficult art of 
coolly retiring without loss, and promptly advancing to his for- 
mer position at the right moment. As in other sketches, the 
writer will aim rather to present such details and incidents as 
convey a clear idea of the actual occurrence, than to indulge in 
historical generalization. Often the least trifling of things are 
" trifles." 

In October, 1863, General Meade's army was around Culpeper 
Court-House, with the advance at Mitchell's Station, on the 
Orange road, and General Lee faced him on the south bank of 
the Rapidan. One day there came from our signal-station, on 
Clarke's Mountain, the message : " General Meade's head-quarters 
are at Wallack's, and Pleasanton's at Cumberland, Georgia.^'' 



2^4 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

General Fitz Lee thereupon sent to General Stuart, after the 
jocose fiishion of "General Fitz," to ask why Pleasantou had 
been sent to " Cumberland^ Georgia.''^ The message should have 
been Cuviberland George! s — the house, that is to say, of the Rev. 
Mr. George, in the suburbs of Culpeper Court- House. 

Every day, at that time, the whistle of the " Yankee cars," as 
we used to call them, was heard a few miles off, at Mitchell's 
Station ; and as General Meade was plainly going to advance, it 
was obvious that he was going to fall back. It was at this time, 
early in October, that " for reasons best known to himself," Gene- 
ral Lee determined upon a movement through Madison, along 
the base of the Blue Ridge, to flank General Meade's right, cut 
him off from Manassas, and bring on a general engagement be- 
tween the two armies. The plan was a simple one. Ewell and 
A. P. Hill were to move out with their corps from the works on 
the Rapidan, and marching up that stream, cross into Madison, 
leaving Fitz Lee's cavalry division to occupy their places in the 
abandoned works, and repulse any assault. Once across the 
Upper Rapidan, Swell and Hill would move ^toward Madison 
Court-House with the rest of Stuart's cavalry on their right flank, 
to mask the movement; and, thence pushing on to the Rappa- 
hannock, make for Warrenton, somewhere near which point it 
was probable that they would strike General Meade's column on 
its retreat. Then a decisive trial of strength in a pitched battle. 

The cavalry, by common consent of the army, " did the work" 
on this movement — the infantry having few opportunities to be- 
come engaged — and I shall ask the reader to follow "Stuart and 
his horsemen." 

I think it was the morning of the 10th of October when, mov- 
ing on the right of the long column of Ewell and Hill then 
streaming toward Madison Court-House, Stuart came on the ex- 
terior picket of the enemy — their advance force of cavalry, in- 
fantry, and artillery, being near the little village of James City. 
The picket on a little stream was driven in, and pushing on to 
Thoroughfare Mountain (not to be confounded with that near 
Manassas), we ran into a regiment of infantry which had hastily 
formed line of battle at the noise of the firing. Gordon, that 



FROM THE RAPIDAN TO FRYING PAN. 265 

gallant North Carolinian, at once became hotly engaged ; but 
there was no time to stop long. Stuart took -Young's brigade — 
he had but two — and, making a detour to the left, charged 
straight down upon the enemy's right flank. Cheers, yells, car- 
bines cracking — and the infantry broke and scattered in the 
mountains, dropping large numbers of the newest, brightest, and 
handsomest muskets ever handled. The force was declared by 
prisoners to have numbered two hundred and fifty, of whom 
about twenty were taken. Stuart now pushed on without stop- 
ping, and speedily became engaged with the main force of Fede- 
ral cavalry at James City. This force was commanded by General 
Kilpatrick, we afterwards discovered, and this gentleman had 
been enjoying himself greatly. There was a race-course near 
the town where races were held, General Kilpatrick having, it 
is said, a favorite mare called " Lively " which he used to run 
against a blood horse in his artillery called the " Battery Horse." 
What became of the " Battery Horse " this historian cannot say ; 
but — to anticipate events — the fate of "Lively" can be stated. 
Later in the fall, the general was running "Lively" near Ma- 
nassas, when she flew the track, and two men were sent after 
her. Neither " Lively " nor the men ever returned. In fact, 
some of " Mosby's people " had been unseen spectators of the 
race from the adjoining woods, and these gentry took charge 
both of the mare and the men sent after her. " I really must 
have that mare," Greneral Stuart said, when he heard the incident, 
but her captors retained her. 

I am anticipating. General Kilpatrick was in command at 
James City, and, drawing up his cavalry on the high ground 
beyond, prepared to receive Stuart's attack. None was made. 
It was not a part of the programme. Stuart's orders were to 
keep the enemy off" the infantry flanks, and this could best be 
accomplished by remaining quiet. So, every demonstration was 
made ; lines of sharpshooters were advanced, our artillery 
opened, and — no attack was made. Thus the hours passed on. 
Shells raced across the little valley. Carbines cracked. An out- 
side spectator would have said that the opponents were afraid of 
each other. The truth was that General Stuart was playing his 



266 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

own game, and his adversary did not understand it. At last, 
even the firing ceased. Fronting each other in line of battle, the 
opponents waited in silence for some movement. The stillness 
was, however, broken suddenly by an incident, amusing, but by 
no means agreeable, at least from our point of view. Greneral 
Stuart was lying down, surrounded by his staff and escort, with 
his flag floating on the top of the hill, when, behind a fringe of 
woods, near the Federal cavalry drawn up in long line of battle 
on the opposite plateau, was seen a puff of white smoke. A roar 
followed, then the whistle of a shell, and this polite visitor fell 
and burst in the very midst of the group. It was a percussion 
shell, and exploded as it struck, tearing up a deep hole and 
vanishing, without injuring a single individual. As the present 
writer was covered with the dirt where he lay, and found b}^ 
inspection that it had been a "line shot," striking within three 
or four feet of his head, the incident was highly pleasing. The 
shell was followed by others, but no harm was done by them, 
and it is not necessary to say that the friendly group, with the 
flag floating so temptingly above it, deployed to the right and 
left, laughing, and not displeased at the result of the first "good 
shot." 

At night the Federal cavalry were still there, and Stuart still 
remained quiet. His headquarters that night were at Mr. 

H 's where that brave spirit. General Gordon, of the cavalry, 

came to see him. It is a melancholy pleasure to recall the gal- 
lant face of Gordon, now that he is dead ; to remember his 
charming smile, his ga}^ humour ; the elegant little speech which 
he made as he gallantly presented a nosegay to the fair Miss 

H , bowing low as he did so amid friendly laughter. When 

he fell he left behind him no braver soldier or kindlier gentle- 
man. 

II. 

At dawn Stuart was again in the saddle, pressing forward 
upon the retiring enemy. 

Ewell and Hill had moved unseen to their position on the 



FKOM THE RAPIDAN TO FRYING PAN. 267 

Sperry ville road, thanks to the stand of Stuart at James City ; 
and now, for the first time, the enemy seemed to understand the 
nature of the blow about to be struck. General Meade had put 
his army in motion toward the Rappahannock ; and, as the 
advance force in our front retired, Stuart pressed them closely. 
It is hard to say whether this great soldier was better in falling 
back or in advancing. When he retired he was the soul of 
stubborn obstinacy. When he advanced he was all fire, dash, 
and impetus. He was now following up a retreating enemy, 
and he did not allow the grass to grow under his feet. 

Below Griffinsburg the rear-guard of the Federal cavalry was 
attacked and driven ; and Stuart was pushing on, when the pre- 
sence of a Federal infantry regiment in the woods to his right 
was announced. To this he paid no attention, but drove on, 
firing upon their cavalry, and soon the good judgment of this 
was shown. The infantry regiment heard the firing, feared 
being cut off, and double-quicked toward the rear. They 
reached the fields on Stone House Mountain as quickly as Stuart, 
moving parallel to his column, and suddenly their line appeared. 
I have rarely seen General Stuart more excited. It was a rich 
prize, that regiment, and it appeared in his grasp ! But, unfor- 
tunately, his column was not " up." He was leading a mere 
advance guard, and that was scattered. Every available staff- 
officer and courier was hurried back for the cavalry, and the 
*' Jefferson Company," Lieutenant Baylor, got up first, and 
charged straight at the flank of the infantry. They were sud- 
denly halted, formed line of battle, and the bright muskets fell 
to a level like a single weapon. The cavalry company received 
the fire at thirty yards, but pressed on, and would doubtless have 
ridden over the infantry, now scattering in great disorder, but 
for an impassable ditch. Before they could make a detour to 
avoid it, the Federal infantry had scattered, " every man for him- 
self," in the woods, dropping guns, knapsacks, and blankets. 

The huge camps at Stone House Mountain, as afterwards 
around Culpeper Court House, were a sort of " Arabian Nights " 
of wonder to the gray people. The troops had fixed themselves 
in the most admirable manner to defy the coming winter. 



288 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

Excellent stone chimneys, of every form ; cabins, stoves, tables, 
magazines, books, wine and rum-bottles (empty), oil-cloths, 
coats, shoes, arms — everything was scattered about. Harpers' 
Magazine seemed to be a favourite ; and full files of papers 
might have been collected in the deserted cabins. From this 
abode of the dolce far niente the rude, hand of war, in the shape 
of Stuar-t's cavalry, had pushed them. 

Stuart continued to press the enemy toward the Court-House; 
and there their cavalry had made a stand. As to the infantry, it 
was nowhere visible in the immense camps around the place — 
those camps which contained, like the first, only rubbish. Not a 
wagon, ambulance, or piece of artillery, I believe, was captured. 
General Meade had swept clean. There were even very few 
empty boxes. 

On " Cumberland Greorge's " hill, the Federal artillery fought 
hard for a time, inflicting some loss ; but Gordon was sent round 
by the Rixey ville Road to the left ; Stuart advanced in front ; 
and the enemy fell back toward Brandy. The reader will re- 
member that General Fitz Lee had been left on the Lower Rapidan 
to repulse any assault in that direction, and the expected assault 
had been made. I think it was General Buford who attacked 
him ; but the attack was unsuccessful, and as the enemy fell back 
Fitz Lee pressed forward on the track of the retreating column 
toward Brandy. We now heard the thunder of his guns upon 
the right as he pushed on toward the Rappahannock, and every- 
thing seemed to be concentrating in the neighbourhood of Fleet- 
wood Hill, the scene of the sanguinary conflict of the 9th of June 
preceding. There the great struggle, in fict, took place — Stuart 
pressing the main column on their line of retreat from above, 
General Fitz Lee pushing as vigorously after the strong force 
which had fallen back from the Rappahannock. As it is not 
the design of the writer to attempt any " battle pictures " in this 
discursive sketch, he omits a detailed account of the hard fight 
which followed. It was among the heaviest of the war, and for 
a time nothing was seen but dust, smoke, and confused masses 
reeling to and fro ; nothing was heard but shouts, cheers, yells, 
and orders, mixed with the quick bang of carbines and the clash 



FKOM THE RAPIDAN TO FRYING PAN. 209 

of sabres — above all, and the continuous thunder of the artillery. 
It was as " mixed up " as any fight of the war, and at one time 
General Stuart, with Colonel Peyton, of General Lee's staff, and 
one or two other ofiicers, found himself cut off' by the enemy. 
He got out, joined his column to Fitz Lee's, and charging the 
Federal forces, cavalry and infantry — the latter being drawn up 
on Fleetwood Hill — pressed them back to the Rappahannock, 
which they hastened to cross. General Meade had thus retreated 
from Culpeper, but it was the " cleanest " retreat on record, as 
far as the present writer's observation extended. He imitated it 
in December at Mine Run. 

General Lee had meanwhile advanced with his infantry toward 
Warrenton Springs, still aiming to cut General Meade off" from 
Manassas. On the next day commenced the trial of skill 
between the two commanders. General Meade's cavalry had 
been so rudely hustled by Stuart, and the cordon placed by the 
latter along the Rappahannock was so effective, that the Federal 
commander was absolutely in the dark as to his great adversary's 
position and designs. On the afternoon of this — next — day, there- 
fore, a Federal force consisting of a corps of infantry and two 
brigades of cavalry, was moved across the Rappahannock where 
the Orange railway crosses it, and this force pushed straight 
toward the Court-House. The design was evidently to ascertain 
if General Lee was in that vicinity, and the column rapidly ad- 
vanced. Near Brandy it encountered what seemed to be Stuart's 
entire cavalry. At various openings in the woods the heads of 
different columns were seen, calmly awaiting an attack, and the 
Federal infantry and cavalry speedily formed line of battle, pre- 
pared for vigorous engagement. They would scarcely have 
given themselves so much trouble if they had known that the 
entire force in their front consisted of about one hundred and eighty 
men^ with one gun under Colonel Rosser, as a sort of grand 
picket guard. He had arranged detachments of eight or ten men 
as above indicated, at openings in the woods, to produce the im- 
pression of several heavy columns ; and it was not until they at- 
tacked him that they discovered the ruse. The attack once made, 
all further concealment was impossible. Rosser's one hundred 



270 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

and eighty men, and single piece of artiller}'-, were rapidly driven 
back by the enemy ; and his gun was now roaring from the high 
ground just below the CourtHouse, when the clatter of hoofs 
was heard upon the streets of the village. It was the gay and 
gallant P. M. B. Young, of Georgia, who had been left with his 
brigade near James City, and now came to Eosser's assistance. 
Young passed through the Court-House at a trot, hastened to 
the scene of action, and, dismounting his entire brigade, deployed 
them as sharpshooters, and made a sudden and determined 
attack upon the enemj'-. This vigorous movement seems to have 
completely deceived them. Night was now falling ; they could 
not make out the numbers or character of Young's force ; and 
an attack as bold as his must surely proceed from a heavy force 
of infantry ! Was General Lee still at the place, with one of his 
corps cTarmee f If this idea entered the minds of the enemy, it 
must have been encouraged by Young's next move. He had 
held his ground without flinching ; and now, as night descended, 
he ordered camp fires to be built along two miles of front, and 
bringing up his splendid brass band, played the " Bonnie Blue 
Flag " and " Dixie " with defiant animation. This ruse seemed 
to decide the matter ; the Federal commander made no further 
effort to advance ; and in the morning there was not a Federal 
soldier on the south bank of the Eappahannock. Their corps 
of infantry and two brigades of cavalry had " fallen back in 
good order : " and the laughing Young remained master of the 
situation. 

Stuart had pushed on, meanwhile, toward Warrenton Springs, 
and just as the fight above described commenced, a gallant affair 
took place above. The enemy were attacked in the town of Jef- 
fersonton, and after a hot fight forced back to Warrenton 
Springs, where the Jefferson Company again distinguished itself. 
The attempt was made to charge over the bridge, in face of the 
enemy's fire. In the middle of the structure the column sudden- 
ly recoiled, and retreated. The cause of this movement was 
soon discovered. Several of the planks had been torn up in the 
flooring of the bridge, and to cross was impossible. The Jeffer- 
son Company, however, did not abandon their work. They gal- 



FROM THE RAPID AN TO FRYING PAN. 271 

loped to the ford, Stuart placed himself at their head, and, in the 
face of a heavy and determined fire from a double line of Fede- 
ral sharpshooters, they charged across. The Federal force gave 
way before them, an.d crossing his whole column Stuart pushed 
on upon the track of the enemy toward Warrenton, followed by 
the infantry, who had witnessed the feats of their cavalry breth 
ren with all the satisfaction of " outside spectators." 

In Jefifersonton and at "Warrenton Springs many brave fellows 
had fallen, and sad scenes were presented. Lieutenant Chew 
had fought from house to house in the first named place, and in 
a mansion of the village this gallant officer lay dying, with a bul- 
let through his breast. At Mr. M 's, near the river, young 

Marshall, of Fauquier, a descendant of the Chief Justice, was 
lying on a table, covered with a sheet — dead, with a huge, bloody 
hole in the centre of his pale forehead ; while in a bed opposite 
lay a wounded Federal officer. In the fields around were dead 
men, dead horses, and abandoned arms. 

The army pushed on to Warrenton, the cavalry still in 
advance, and on the evening of the next day Stuart rapidly 
advanced with his column to reconnoitre toward Catlett's Station, 
the scene of his great raid in August, 1862, when he captured 
General Pope's coat and official papers. The incident which fol- 
lowed was one of the most curious of the war. 



in. 

Stuart had just passed Auburn, when General Gordon, com- 
manding the rear of his column, sent him word that a heavy 
force of the enemy's infantry had closed in behind him, com- 
pletely cutting him off from General Lee. As at the same 
moment an army corps of Federal infantry was discovered mov- 
ing across his front. General Stuart awoke to the unpleasant 
consciousness that his little force of cavalry was securely hemmed 
in between overpowering masses of the enemy, who, as soon as 
they discovered the presence of the audacious interlopers, would 
unquestionably attack and cut them to pieces. 



272 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

The "situation " was now in the highest degree critical. In 
fact, Stuart had managed to get his command inclosed between 
the two retreating columns of Greneral Meade — infantry, cavalry, 
and artillery — and these columns, as they moved across his front 
and rear, were converging toward Bristoe, near Manassas. The 
only hope of safety lay in complete concealment of his presence, 
and General Stuart issued the most stringent orders to his troops 
that no noise of any description should be made during the night. 
There was little necessity to impress this upon the command. 
Within a few hundred yards of them, in front and in rear, were 
moving the huge columns of the enemy ; the feet of the infantry 
shuffling, the hoofs of the cavalry clattering, the artillery wheels 
and chains rolling and jingling, and above the whole the stifled 
hum of an army on the march. The men sat motionless and 
silent in the saddle, listening, throughout the long hours of the 
night. No man spoke ; no sound was heard from human lips 
as the little force remained perdu in the darkness. But the 
" dumb animals " were not equally intelligent, and more than 
once some thoughtless horse neighed or some indiscreet donkey 
in the artillery uttered his discordant notes. In the noise of the 
Federal retreat these sounds, however, were not observed, and 
thus the night wore on and daylight came. 

The first glimmer showed General Stuart that the Federal forces 
had nearly all passed. In fact the rear force had halted within a 
few hundred yards of his position and were cooking their break- 
fasts. Now was his opportunity, not only to extricate himself, 
but to take vengeance for the long hours of anxiety and peril. 
Picked men had been sent during the night to pass through the 
advancing column and announce the critical position of affairs to 
General Lee, and Stuart had suggested a vigorous infantry 
attack upon the enemy's left flank while he attacked their right. 
Not hearing from General Lee, he took the initiative. At dawn 
he put his artillery in position, drew up his cavalry, and opened 
a thundering fire upon the Federal troops ; knocking over their 
coffee-pots, and scattering them in wild confusion. They rallied, 
however, and made a vigorous attack — a severe though brief 
engagement following — but Stuart repulsed this assault, slowly 



FROM THE RAPIDAN TO FRYING PAN. 278 

fell back, and soon his little command was extricated from its 
peril. Altogether this was a curious affair. It was not attrac- 
tive, however " romantic." One of the bravest infantry officers 
of the army, who accompanied the expedition as an amateur, 
declared, laughing, that he was " done with the cavalry — the 
infantry was enough for him thereafter." 

Meanwhile General Lee was pressing the retiring enemy toward 
Bristoe ; Stuart on the right, and General Fitz Lee moving on 
their left, through New Baltimore. There was some fatal blun- 
der, however, in the execution of General Lee's orders, or eke 
some obstacle which could not be overcome. General Meade 
pushed on and crossed Broad Run, making with his main body 
for Manassas. "When the Southern advance force reached Bris- 
toe they found the main Federal army gone. A strong force^ 
however, remained, and this was drawn up behind a long rail- 
road embankment serving admirably as a breastwork. The men 
had only to lie down upon the slope, rest their muskets on the 
track of the railroad, and sweep the open field in their front with 
a shower of balls if the Confederates attacked. The attack was 
made — straight across open ground, down a slope, right on the 
embankment. The consequence was that Cooke's brigade, which 
was ordered to make the attempt, was nearly annihilated, the Gene- 
ral falling among the first at the head of his troops : and, advanc- 
ing against the line to his left, the enemy captured, I believe, nine 
pieces of artillery. After this exploit they quietly retired across 
Broad Eun, and rejoined the main column. A worse managed 
affair than that fight at Bristoe did not take place during the 
war. "Well, well, General," Lee is reported to have said to the 
officer who essayed to explain the occurrence, " bury these poor 
men, and let us say no more about it." General Meade was 
behind Bull Run fortifying. 

Thus terminated General Lee's vigorous attempt to bring on a 
pitched battle with Meade. That was his design, as it was Gene- 
ral Meade's design in coming over to Mine Run in the succeed- 
ing December. Both schemes failed. From the high ground 
beyond Bristoe, Lee, surrounded by his generals, reconnoitred 
the retiring rear-guard of the enemy, and issued his orders for 

18 



274 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

the army to retrace its steps to the Rappahannock. The cavalry 
had not, however, finished their work. The fine October wea- 
ther was admirable for active movement, and Stuart pushed 
straight on to Manassas, harassing the Federal forces as they 
crossed -Bull Run. At Blackburn's Ford, General Fitz Lee had 
a brisk engagement, which drove the Federal cavalry across; 
and, near Yates's Ford, General Stuart charged over a barricade 
at the head of his horsemen, scattered the Federal sharpshooters, 
and drove to and across the stream their cavalry and artillery. 

An odd incident marked this occasion. It was about dusk 
when the enemy began to retire from our front, their artillery 
roaring on the right, but taking position after position, each 
nearer Bull Run. General Stuart was within about four hundred 
yards of the Federal guns, in the edge of the woods, surrounded 
by his stafi", escort, etc., one of whom had just taken up a dead 
man before him to carry off. At this moment, among the figures 
moving to and fro, one — apparently a member of the staff or 
escort — wafi seen quietly riding out into the field, as if to gain a 
better view of the Federal artillery. "Who is that?" said Gene- 
ral Stuart, pointing to the figure, indistinct in the dusk. '* One 
of the couriers," some one replied. "No!" returned Stuart, 
"halt him!" Two men immediately galloped after the sus- 
pected individual, who was easily, carelessly, and quietly edging 
off; and he speedily returned between them. Behold ! he wore 
under his oilcloth a blue coat! "What do you belong to?" 
asked Stuart. " The First Maine, sir," responded the other with 
great nonchalance. In fact; the "gentleman from Maine" had 
got mjxed up with us when the column went over the barricade; 
and, wrapped in his oilcloth, had listened to the remarks of 
Stuart and his staff, until he thought he could get away. The 
quick eye of General Stuart, however, penetrated his disguise, 
and he was a prisonei'. 

It was now night, and operations were over for the day. The 
retreat had been admirably managed. General Meade had car- 
ried off everything. We did not capture a wagon wheel. All 
was beyond Bull Run. The present writer here records his 
own capture, viz. one oilcloth, one feed of oats, found in the 



FROM THE RAPID.4JT TO FRYING PAN. 275 

road, and one copy of Harper'' s Magazine^ full of charming pic- 
tures of rebels, running, or being annihilated, in every portion 
of the country. On the next morning, Stuart left Fitz Lee 
in front of Bull Run, to oppose any advance of the Federal cav- 
alry there, and, taking Hampton's division, set out through a 
torrent of rain to make a flank movement against General 
Meade's right beyond the Little River Turnpike. He had in- 
tended to cross at Sudley Ford, but coming upon the Federal 
cavalry near Groveton, a fight ensued, and the column could 
not cross there without having the movement unmasked. Stuart 
accordingly turned to the left; made a detour through Gains- 
ville ; and advancing, amid a violent storm, bivouacked that 
night beyond the Little Catharpin. The General on this day 
kept his entire staff and surroundings in great good-humour, by 
his songs and laughter, which only seemed to grow more jovial 
as the storm became more violent. I hope the reader will not 
regard this statement as " unworthy of the dignity of history." 
Fortunately I am not writing history ; only a poor little sketch 
of a passage in the life of a very great man ; and it has seemed" 
to me that all concerning him is interesting. Pardon ! august 
muse of history, that dealest in protocols and treaties I We 
pass on. 

The weather was charming, as on the next morning the column 
advanced toward "Frying-Pan Church," and the troopers sub-> 
sisted delightfully upon chinquepins, chestnuts, persimmons, and 
wild grapes. Reaching a magnificent apple-tree, weighed down 
with fruit as red as carnations, the men, with the fullest per- 
mission from the hospitable owner, threw themselves upon it, 
and soon the whole was stripped, the soldiers going on their way 
rejoicing. Never have I seen more splendid weather thau those 
October days, or more beautiful tints in the foliage. Pity that 
the natural red of the birch and dogwood was not enough with- 
out blood ! Stuart advanced rapidly, and near Frying-Pan 
Church came upon and at once attacked the Second corps of 
Federal infantry. A long ling of sharpshooters was formed, 
which advanced on foot in line of battle. The artillery roared, 
and at first the Federal troops gave ground. The aspect of 



276 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

affairs speedily changed, however, and a strong Federal force, 
advancing in order of battle, made it necessary for Stuart to 
withdraw. This was done at once, with great deliberation, and 
at the " Recall " of the bugle tlie skirmishers slowly moved back 
and gained the woods. A spectacle which aroused the good- 
humoured laughter of those who witnessed it, wos a staff officer 
carrying off in his arms a young lady of about fourteen from a 
house which the enemy were about to have within their lines. 
This was done at the suggestion of the General ; and although 
the bullets were flying and the officer's horse was " dancing upon 
all four feet," the young lady declared herself " not afraid," and 
did not change colour at the bullets. If this meets the fair girl's 
eye she is informed that the officer has still the gray who came 
near unseating her as he jumped the fence, and that his rider 
has not forgotten the smiling little face, but remembers it with 
admiration and pleasure! 

IV. 

That night General Stuart was moving steadily back by the 
same route which he had pursued in advancing, and on the next 
day he had reached the vicinity of Bucklands. 

The army had fallen back, tearing up the road, and General 
Stuart now prepared to follow, the campaign having come to an 
end. He was not, however, to be permitted to fall back without 
molestation, and his command was to be present at the " Buck- 
land Races." This comic episode will be briefly described, and 
the event related just as it occurred, without embellishment or 
exaggeration. General Kilpatrick, commanding the Federal 
cavalry, had been very much outraged, it would appear, at the 
hasty manner in which Stuart had compelled him to evacuate 
Culpeper; and he now felt an ardent desire, before the cam- 
paign ended, to give the great cavalier a "Roland for his Oliver." 
With about 3,000 cavalry he accordingly crossed Bull Run, 
following upon Stuart's track as the latter fell back ; and soon 
he had reached the little village of Bucklands, not far from New 
Baltimore. • 



FROM THE RAPIDAN TO FRYING PAN. 277 

Stuart had disappeared ; but these disappearances of Stuart, 
like those of Jackson, were always dangerous. In fact, a ruse 
was about to be practised upon General Kilpatrick, who was 
known to want caution, and this ruse was of the simplest descrip- 
tion. Stuart had arranged that he should retire before Kilpatrick 
as he advanced, until the Federal column was beyond Buck- 
lands — then Fitz Lee, who had fallen back from Manassas on 
the line of the Orange Railroad, would have an opportunity to 
fall upon the enemy's flank and rear. The sound of Fitz Lee's 
guns would be the signal for Stuart to face about and attack ; 
Kilpatrick would thus be assailed in front and flank at the same 
instant, and the result would probably be satisfactory. This 
plan was carried out exactly as Stuart had arranged. General 
Kilpatrick reached Bucklands, and is said to have stated while 
dining at a house there that " he would not press Stuart so hard, 
but he (Stuart) had boasted of driving him (Kilpatrick) out of 
Culpeper, and he was going to give him no rest." It is said 
that General Kilpatrick had scarcely uttered this threat when 
the roar of artillery was heard upon his left flank, and this was 
speedily reechoed by similar sounds in his front. In fact. Gene- 
ral Fitz Lee had carried out his half of the programme, and 
Stuart hastened to do the rest. At the sound of General Lee's 
artillery Stuart faced about, formed his command in three 
columns, and charged straight upon the enemy's front, while 
General Fitz Lee fell upon his flanks. ' The consequence was a 
complete rout of the Federal cavalry, who scattered in every 
direction, throwing down their arms as they fled, and the flight 
of many, it is said, was not checked until they reached Alexan- 
dria. General Custer's headquarter wagons and papers were 
captured — as happened, I believe, to the same officer twice sub- 
sequently — and the pursuing force, under Kilpatrick, gave 
Stuart no more trouble as he fell back. This engagement 
afforded huge enjoyment to the Southern cavalry, as it was almost 
bloodless, and resembled a species of trap into which their oppo- 
nents fell. Nothing amuses troops more than this latter circum- 
stance, and the affair continues to be known among the dis- 
banded troopers of Stuart, as the " Buckland Races." 



278 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

This engagement ended the campaign as far as the cavalry 
were concerned, and it was the movements of this arm that I 
proposed to outline. These were uniformly successful, while 
those of the infantry, from what appeared to be some fatality, 
were regularly imsuccessful. While the cavalry drove their 
opponents before them at Stone House Mountain, Culpeper 
Court-House, Brandy, Warrenton Springs, Bull Eun, and Buck- 
lands, the infantry failed to arrest the enemy at Auburn ; were 
repulsed at Bristoe with the loss of several guns ; and now, on 
the Eappahannock, was to occur that ugly affair at the railroad 
bridge, in which two brigades of General Lee's army were sur- 
prised, overpowered, and captured almost to a man. Such is the 
curiously mingled " warp and woof" of war. It was the Army 
of Northern Virginia^ led by Ewell and Hill, with General Lee 
commanding in person, which sustained these losses, and failed 
in the object which the great soldier declared he had in view — 
to cut off nnd fight a pitched battle with General Meade. The 
movements of this latter commander entitled him to high praise, 
and he exhibited throughout the brief campaign a vigour and 
acumen which onlv belonsr to the thorough soldier. 

Such is an outline of some incidents in this rapid campaign ; 
this hasty movement backward and forward on the great chess- 
board of war. The discursive sketch here laid before the reader 
may convey some idea of the occurrences as they actually took 
place. From the " official reports " the grave Muse of History 
will sum up the results, generalizing upon the importance or 
non-importance of the events. This page aims at no generaliza- 
tion at all, but simply to show how Stuart and Fitz Lee, with 
their brave comrades, did the work assigned to them in thobe 
bright October days of 1863. 



IX. 

MAJOR E 'S LITTLE PRIVATE SCOUT. 



Nothing is more curious than the manner in which a sudden 
and unexpected attack imposes upon the recipients thereof; and 
it is safe to say that none but the best troops, trained and dis- 
ciplined to stand firm under all contingencies, can be counted on 
in such moments of emergency. 

The following incident will prove the truth of this assertion. 
It is not related "for the greater glory" of the Southern arms, 
so much as to present a curious illustration of the effect upon 
the human mind of a sudden surprise. 

A word first of the doughty sahreur who figured as hero on 
the occasion, my friend, Major E , of the C. S. A. 

The Major is stout, rosy, of a portly figure, and from his ap- 
pearance you would not take him for a very active or dangerous 
personage. But he is both. No man delights more in move- 
ment, adventure, and combat. No man sits a horse with more 
of the true cavalry ease. You may see from the manner in 
which he handles his sabre that he is master of that weapon ; 
and in the charge he is a perfect thunderbolt. He fingers hia 
pistol and makes the barrels revolve with admirable grace ; his 
salute with the sabre is simply perfection ; .his air, as he listens 
to an order from his superior officer, says plainly, " All I wish 
is to know what you want me to do. General — if it can be done 
it will be done." This air does not deceive. It is well known 
to the Major's friends that his motto is, "Neck or nothing." At 



280 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

Mine Run, when General Meade confronted the Southern lines, 
the worthy said to me, " A soldier's duty is to obey his orders; 
and if General Stuart told me to charge the Yankee army by 
myself, I would do it. He would be responsible." 

It will be seen from the above sketch of the gallant Major, 
that he is a thorough soldier. In fact he loves his profession, 
and is not satisfied with performing routine duty. He is fond 
of volunteering on forlorn hopes, and in desperate emergenciea 
— when he cannot get at the blue-coats for any length of time — 
he pines. 

This mood came to him in the fall of 1862. Quiet had 
reigned along the lines so long, that he grew melancholy. His 
appetite did not fail, as far as his friends could perceive, but 
something obviously rested on his mind. He was rusting, and 
was conscious of the process. " Why don't they come out and 
fight?" the Major seemed to ask with his calm, sad eyes. They 
were in Virginia for the purpose of "crushing the rebellion," — 
why didn't they set about the work? 

These questions meeting with no satisfactory response, Major 

R determined himself to take the initiative, and see if he 

oould not bring on a little light, all on his private account. He 
would thus relieve his bosom of the perilous stuff which preyed 
upon his heart. It had, indeed, become absolutely necessary to 
his peace of mind to come into collision with his friends across 
the way, and he set about devising the best plan for arriving at 
his object. 

The Southern cavalry to which the Major was attached, at 
that time occupied the county of Culpeper, and picketed along 
the Rappahannock. So did the enemy's horsemen, and the 
Federal pickets were stationed on the southern bank at every 
ford. This was the case at "Warrenton Springs, where a bridge, 
afterwards destroyed, spanned the Rappahannock ; and at this 

point Major R determined to bring on the little affair which 

had become so necessary to his happiness. He intended to com- 
bine pleasure with business by visiting some young ladies at a 
hospitable mansion not far from the bridge ; and having thus 
laid out his programme he proceeded to execute it, and "all 



MAJOR R 's LITTLE PRIVATE SCOUT. 281 

alone bj himself" attack the picket guard of some twenty of 
the enemy. 

Behold the Major now in warlike panoply — that is to say, in 
fine gray dress coat with burnished buttons (for the eyes of 
Venus after the conflict with Mars) ; pistol carefully loaded, in 
holster on his right side; and sabre in excellent order, jingHng 
against his top boots. It was a saying of the worthy, that he 
"generally kept his arms in good order," and on this occasion 
nothing was left to be desired. His pistol revolved at the touch, 
■with a clear ringing click; and you could see your face in his 
sabre blade. Thus accoutred, and mounted on a good, active 
horse, he set off from Hazel river, and making a detour around 

Jeffersonton, came to an elevation in rear of Mr. 's house, 

where he stopped to reconnoitre. 

The Federal picket — of nineteen men, as he afterwards dis- 
covered — was at the bridge ; and in the yard of the mansion 
were two videttes, with their horses tied to the trees under which 
they were lying. Whether he could succeed in " driving in " 
the whole picket was problematical, but the videttes were pretty 
sure game. He would either run them off or capture them. 

With the Major execution followed conception rapidly ^ Push- 
ing boldly over the crest from behind which he had made his 
reconnoissance, he charged across the field at a thundering gallop, 
whirling his burnished sabre around his head, yelling in a man- 
ner that was truly awful ; and shouting as he rode to a sup- 
posititious squadron : 

" Charge ! charge 1 cut down every man !" 

So portentous was the reverberating shout of onset from the 
lips of the Major, that the videttes started to their feet, and 
clutched the bridles of their horses instantly. As the warlike 
figure, surrounded by the brilliant lightning of the flashing sabre, 
swept on, the videttes probably saw at least a squadron of 
" Rebel cavalry " in the dust which rose behind ; and hastily 
mounting, darted away, pursued by the triumphant Major, whose 
yells were now more tremendous than ever. 

Across the broad field, past the house, on toward the bridge, 
galloped the furious assailant, bent on striking terror to the 



282 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

enemy's hearts, and succ^sfully completing his adventure 
Before him fled the frightened videttes — their movements ac 
celerated by several balls, which issued from the Major's pistol, 
and whistled by their ears. On toward the bridge, and into tha 
midst of the picket fled the videttes ; and as the Major's shouts, 
and vociferous orders to his cavalry to charge, and let no one 
escape, resounded nearer, the pickets, too, mounted in hot haste, 
and clattered across the bridge, pursued by the Major's pistol 
shots. 

Ir^ vain did the officer in charge of the picket-post shout to his 
men : 

"Halt! halt! Shoot down the rascal! Shoot him down T 
say ! There's only one of them ! " 

His voice was unheard or his order unheeded. The picket 
was composed of stuff less soldierly than their officer, and would 
not obey him. Before their vivid imaginations rose at least a 
squadron of Confederate cavalry, sweeping on to ride over them, 
sword in hand. "* 

The result was that Major R in ten minutes had posses- 
sion of the bridge, and sat his horse defiantly in the middle of 
it. He then amused himself by sending a few parting shots 
after the demoralized picket, and having performed this agree- 
able duty rode back to the house of Mr. , laughing low in 

his peculiar way ; his breast completely lightened of the oppres- 
sive weight which had so long weighed upon it. 

At Mr. 's he met with a triumphant reception; was 

greeted with a perfect ovation. The young ladies of the man- 
sion were crazy almost with delight at the manner in which they 
had been delivered from the presence of their enemies; and 
when the hero of the occasion made his appearance they met 
him as women only can meet their deliverers — with smiles such 
as shine rarely for the poor "civilian." After all it is something 
to be a soldier. The trade is hard, but the feminine eye has a 
peculiar brightness when it rests on the sons of Mars ! — of Mars, 
proverbially the favourite of Venus ! 

The Major was an old soldier, and in no hurry to depart. He 
counted on the extent of the "scare" he had given the enemy, 



MAJOR R 'S LITTLE SCOUT. 283 

and quietly enjoyed himself in the charming society of his host- 
esses. He had once more become " excellent company." The 
smile had returned to his lips, the light to his eyes. That 
melancholy which had made his friends uneasy had quite disap- 
peared, and the Major was " himself again" — that is to say, the 
gayest and most delightful of companions. 

When, rising slowly and carelessly, he bade his friendly enter- 
tainers good-bye, he was again happy. He came back to camp, 
smiling, amiable, the soul of sweetness and cheerfulness. I saw 
him. He was absolutely radiant. His eloquent eye beamed 
brightly ; his countenance was charming ; his movements ener- 
getic and elastic ; the fullest satisfaction was apparent in every 
lineament of his face. His gay and friendly smile seemed to 
say, " I went at nineteen of them ; ran them off; held the bridge 
against them ; had an excellent supper, a delightful talk — I am 
happy !" 

Such was the gay little comedy which I heard from the family 

of Mr. , as I sat upon his porch and conversed with them 

one day. The narrative is precisely true in every particular, 
and has always impressed me as a curious illustration of the 
effect of "surprises" upon troops — of the enormous power ex- 
erted by the human imagination. 



X. 

A DASH AT ALDIE. 



In carelessly looking over an old portfolio yesterday — October 
31, 1866 — I found among other curious records of the war a 
rude, discoloured scrap of paper, written in pencil, and bearing 
date October 81, 1862. 

Four years, day for day, had passed, since those pencil marks 
were traced. Four years ! not a long time, you may say, in the 
life of man. But longest of long years — most snail-like in their 
movement — most terrible for that delay which makes the stoutest 
heart grow sick, were those four twelvemonths between Octo- 
ber, 1862, and October, 1866. The larger portion of the period 
was spent in hoping — the rest of it in despairing. 

But I wander from the subject of this sketch. The paper 
found in my portfolio contained the following words, written, as 
I have said, in pencil : 

" MouNTSTlLLE, October 31, 1862. 

" I hereby bind myself, on my word of honour, not to take up 
arms against the Confederate States, or in any manner give aid 
and comfort to the Federal cause, until I am regularly ex- 
changed. 

"L. — . Gove, 
Captain ." 

I read this paper, and then went back and read it over again. 
A careless observer would have seen in it only a simple and 
very hastily written parole. Eead at one instant, it would have 



A DASH AT ALDIE. 285 

been forgotten in the next — a veritable leaf of autumn, dry and 
worthless. 

For me it contained much more than was written on it. I did 
not throw it aside. I read it over a third time, and it made a 
dolorous impression on my heart. For that paper, written by 
myself four years ago, and signed by a dying man whose hand 
staggered as it traversed the sheet, leaving the name of the writer 
almost illegible, his full official rank unrecorded — that paper 
brought back to my memory a day near Aldie, when it was my 
sorrowful duty to parole a brother human being in ariicuh 
mortis. 

" A brother human being, do you say ? He was only a 
Yankee ! " some one may object. No — he was my brother, 
and yours, reader, whether you wore blue or gray. Did you 
wear the gray, then ? So did I. Did you hate the invaders of 
Virginia? So did I. You may have been able to see this 
enemy die in agony, and not pity him. I was not. And the 
proof is, that the sight of the paper which his faint hand touched 
as he drew his last breath, has struck me wofully, and. blotted 
out a part of the autumn sunshine yonder on the mountains. 

I have nothing to reproach myself with — the reader shall 
judge of that — but this poor rough scrap of paper with its 
tremulous signature moves me all the same. 



11. 

It was in the last days of October, 1862. McClellan had fol- 
lowed Lee to Sharpsburg ; fought him there ; refitted his army ; 
recrossed the Potomac, and was rapidly advancing toward War- 
renton, where the fatal fiat from Washington was to meet him, 
" Off with his head ! So much for Buckingham." 

But in these la^t days of October the wind had not yet wafted 
to him the decree of the civilians. He was pressing on in 
admirable order, and Lee had promptly broken up his camps 
upon the Opequon to cross the Blue Eidge at Chester's Gap, and 
interpose himself between McClellan and the Eapidan. 



2S6 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

The infantry moved ; the cavalry followed, or rather marched 
to guard the flank. 

Stuart crossed the Shenandoah at Castleman's ; the column 
moved through Snicker's Gap ; then from the eastern slopes of 
the Blue Kidge were seen the long trains of McClellan in the 
distance, wirJing toward Middleburg and Aldie. 

In front of these trains we knew very well that we would find 
the Federal cavalry under that able soldier, General Bayard, if 
he did not find us. For we had trains also, and it was more 
than probable that Bayard would strike at them through the 
passes of the Ridge. To prevent him from so doing it seemed 
most advisable to carry the war into Africa by a blow at himy 
and Stuart moved on without pausing toward Bloomfield. This 
village was passed ; we reached the little hamlet of Union, where 
the people told us, with what truth I know not, that a party of 
the enemy had just ridden through, firing right and left upon 
citizens and children ; then pushing on, in the splendid autumn 
sunshine, the brigade — Fitz Lee's, commanded by the gallant 
Wickham — reached the vicinity of Mountsville. 

Stuart was riding gaily at the head of his horsemen, when 
Wickham galloped up from the advance guard, and announced 
that a heavy picket force was camped at Mountsville, visible 
through the lofty trees upon its hill. 

" Charge it ! " was the General's reply ; and pushing on, he 
was there almost as soon as the advance guard. 

The}^ dashed upon the camp, or bivouac rather, with shouts ; 
bang! bang! bang! from the carbines told that the blue and 
gray people had come into collision : and then the cheers of the 
Southerners indicated that they were driving in the picket force 
upon the main body. 

In a moment we had reached the spot, and in a field were the 
hastily abandoned accoutrements of the Federal cavalry. Saddles, 
blankets, oil-cloths, carbines, sabres, and coats were scatter- 
ed everywhere. Upon the ground, a bright red object glitter- 
ed in the sunshine — it was the flag, or guidon of the enemy, 
abandoned like the rest. The Federal picket force, consisting 
of the First Rhode Island Cavalry, between seventy -five and one 



A DASH AT ALDIE. 287 

hundred in number, had disappeared as a handful of dry leaves 
disappear, swept away by the wind. 

The Southerners pursued with shouts and carbine shots — but 
officers and men, bending from the saddle, caught upon the points 
of their sabres, as they passed at full speed, those precious 
' quartermaster stores," blankets, oil-cloths, so scarce in the 
poverty-stricken Confederacy. The present writer was almost 
destitute on the last day of October — on the first day of November 
he was rich. His cavalier outfit had been reinforced by an 
excellent regulation blanket, heavy and double : and a superb 
india-rubber poncho, on which was inscribed the name " Lougee." 
If the original owner of that fine military cloak survives, I beg 
to express my hope that he did not suffer, in the winter nights 
of 1862, for want of, it. 

The Federal camp had vanished, as I have said, as though 
carried away by the wind. The carbine shots were heard re- 
ceding still toward Aldie — prisoners began to come back toward 
the rear. The name of another member of the First Ehode Island 
I can give. A young attache of Greneral Stuart's staft" had cap- 
tured a stout animal, and while leading him, was suddenly saluted 
by the words, " There is Brown's horse ! " from a Federal prisoner 
passing. Brown's horse travelled afterwards extensively, and 
visited the low country of North Carolina. Most erratic of lives 
for men and animals is the military life. You know whence you 
come, not at all whither you go ! 

These trifles have diverted me from the main subject of the 
present sketch. I approach that subject with reluctance, for the 
picture to be drawn is a sad one. It is nothing to record the 
gay or comic incidents of other times — to let the pen glide, 
directed by the memory, when the lips are smiling and the heart 
is gay. To record the sad events, however, the blood, the tears — 
believe me, that is different. 

I was pushing on, when a groan from the roadside drew ray 
eyes in that direction. I looked and saw a man lying on his back, 
writhing to and fro," upon the grass. Some cavalrymen had 
stopped, and were looking at him curiously. 

"Who is that?" tasked. 



288 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

"The Yankee captain, sir," replied one of the men. 

" The Captain commanding the picket ? " 

" Yes, sir ; when his men ran, he mounted his horse to keep 
from being captured. The horse was unbridled — the Captain 
could not guide him with the halter, and he ran away. Then 
one of our men rode up close and shot him — the horse jumped 
the fence and threw him — he looks like he was dying." 

" Poor fellow ! but I suppose he is only wounded. Look 
after him." 

And I went on to catch up with General Stuart, who had 
ridden on in advance. 

Two hundred yards from the spot I found him sitting on 
his horse in the road and waiting for his column. 

" Greneral," I said, " do you know that the officer commanding 
the picket was shot ? " 

" No ; where is he ? " 

"He is lying yonder in the corner of the fence, badly 
wounded." 

Stuart looked in the direction of the wounded man. 

" This ought to be attended to," he said. " I do not like to 
leave him there, but I must go on. I wish you would see to this — 
Dr. Mount is at Mountsville, tell him to have the officer carried 
there, and to look to his wound. But first take his parole. He 
is a prisoner." 

The General then rode on, and I hastened back to the suffering 
officer. 

The spectacle was a piteous one. He was lying in a corner 
of the fence, writhing and groaning. From his lips came inces- 
santly those pathetic words which the suffering utter more than 
all others—" Oh ! my God ! my God ! " 

I dismounted, and bent over him. 

" Are you in very great pain ? " 

" Oh ! my God ! " 

" Where are you wounded ? " 

" Oh ! my God ! my God I " 

I could see no blood, and yet this human being was evidently 
stretched upon the rack. What he required was a physician ; 



A DASH AT ALDIE. 2S9 

and mounting my horse I galloped to Mountsville, only a few 
hundred yards distant, where I saw and gave the General's mes- 
sage to Dr. Mount. The doctor promptly answered that he would 
send immediately for the sufferer, and dress his wound ; and hav- 
ing received this assurance, I returned to the spot where he lay. 

"Do you suffer as much now? " I asked. 

A groan was the reply. 

" You will be taken care of — a surgeon is coming." 

But I could not attract his attention. Then all at once I 
remembered the general's order. I was to parole this man — 
that order must be obeyed, unless I thought him dying or sure 
to die. It was my duty as a soldier to observe the directions 
which I had received. 

I looked at the sufferer ; could see no blood ; thought " this 
wound may be only very painful ; " and, taking from my mili- 
tary satchel a scrap of paper, wrote with a pencil the parole 
which I have copied in the beginning of this paper. 

Then kneeling down beside the officer, I placed the pencil in 
his hand, read the parole, and he attached his name to it, without 
objection — exhibiting, as he did so, many evidences of suffering, 
but none of approaching death. 

Fifteen minutes afterwards a vehicle was brought, and Captain 
Gove, of the First Khode Island Cavalry, was conveyed, in charge 
of a surgeon, to Mountsville. 

in. 

Here the writer had intended to terminate his sketch — attach- 
ing to it the title, " Paroled in Articulo Mortis," But in so 
determining he did not take into consideration the curious 
faculty of memory — that faculty which slumbers, and seems 
dead often, but none the less lives ; which, once set in motion, 
travels far. Two or three recollections of that period, 
and allied to the subject, have come back — among them the 
attack on Aldie ; the ovation which awaited us at Middle- 
burg ; and the curious manner in which the heavy silver 
watch and chain of the wounded officer — taken from his 

19 



290 WEAEING OF THE GRAY. 

body by an officer of the staff — was afterwards restored to bis 
family. 

A word of each incident in its turn. 

The force at Mountsville was one of the antennoR of that dan 
gerousfoe, General Bayard. Touched, it recoiled — but behind 
it were the veritable claws. At Aldie, Bayard was posted with 
artillery, and a cavalry force which we estimated from the 
accounts of prisoners — some seventy in number — at about 5000. 

Stuart had only the brigade of Fitz Lee, about 1000 men, but 
once in motion the •' Flower of Cavaliers" always followed the 
Scriptural precept to forget those things which were behind, and 
press on to those which were before. His column, therefore, 
moved on steadily ; and before I had finished paroling Captain 
Gove, was nearly out of sight. 

Nothing now detained me, and pushing on at full gallop, I 
came up with Stuart on the high hill west of Aldie. All along 
the road were dead and wounded men — one of the former was 
lying in a pool of blood pierced through from breast to back 
by a sabre thrust. 

Fifty yards further, the long column was stationary on the road 
which wound up the hill — stationary, but agitated, restless. From 
the front came carbine shots. 

On the summit of the hill, relieved against the sky, was the 
form of Stuart, with floating plume, drawn sword, and animated 
gesture. His horse was rearing ; his sabre, as he whirled it 
around his head, flashed like lightning in the October sun. No 
officer was with him — he had distanced all. 1 never saw him 
more impatient. 

" Go to the head of the column, and make it charge! " was his 
order — an order so unlike this -preux chevalier^ who generally 
took the front himself, that I would not record it, did I not recall 
the exact words — " tell them to charge right in ! " 

A storm of bullets hissed around the speaker ; his horse was 
dancing the polka on his hind feet. 

Before I had reached the head of the column, going at a run, 
Stuart was there too. Then the cause of the halt was seen. The 
enemy had dismounted a double line of marksmen — if they were 



A DASH AT ALDIE. 291 

not infantry — and those adventurous cavaliers wlio had pushed 
on into the hornets' hive, Aldie, had fallen back, pursued by 
balls. At the same moment the Federal artillery was seen com- 
ing into position at a rapid gallop on the opposite hill. 

Stuart threw one fiery glance in that direction, flashed a 
second towards the front, and said briefly ; 

" Tell Wickham to form on the hill, and bring up Pelham at a 
gallop ! " 

The order was delivered to Wickham ; then I went to hurry 
Pelham. I found him advancing, alone, at a walk, riding a 
huge artillery horse, his knees drawn up by the short stirrups. 

" The pieces are coming at a gallop," was his smiling answer ; 
" anything going on ? " 

" The General is going to fall back to the hill, and needs the 
guns." 

" All right; they'll be there." 

And soon the roll of wheels, and the heavy beat of artillery 
horses' hoofs, was heard. A cloud of dust rose behind. The 
pieces approached at a gallop, and ascending the hill, came 
into position, flanked by cavalry. Then they opened, and at 
the third shot the Federal artillery changed its position. I 
always thought they must have known when Pelham was 
opposed to them. In the Southern army there was no greater 
artillerist than this boy. 

Stuart was now upon the hill, where he had drawn up his line 
to meet Bayard's charge. He had scarcely made his disposi- 
tions, however, when a mounted man approached him at full 
gallop, from the side of Mountsville, that is to say, his rear, and 
delivered a message. 

The face of the General flushed, and he threw a rapid glance 
in that direction. He had received intelligence that a heavy 
force of the enemy was closing in upon his rear from the side of 
Leesburgh. With Bayard's 6000 in front, and that column in 
rear, the little brigade seemed to be caught in a veritable hor- 
nets' nest. 

But to extricate himself without difficulty from every species 
of " tight place," seemed to be a peculiar foculty of Stuart's. 



292 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

He gave an order to Wickham ; the cavalry moved slowl}' back, 
with the enemy's shell bursting above them. Pelhara limbered 
up coolly ; the column headed to the left ; a friendly by-road, 
grassy, skirted with trees and unperceived by the enemy, pre- 
sented its'elf; and in fifteen minutes the whole Southern force was 
out of Bayard's clutch, moving steadily across to Middleburg. 
Stuart was out of the trap. 

At Middleburg, that charming little town, dropped amid the 
smiling fields of Loudoun, the General and his followers were 
received in a manner which I wish I could describe ; but it was 
indescribable. The whole hamlet seemed to have been attacked 
by a sudden fit of joyous insanity. Men, women, and children, 
ran from the houses, shouting, laughing, cheering — crazy, it 
appeared, for joy, at sight of the gray horsemen. Six hours 
before they were in the "enemy's country," and the streets had 
been traversed by long columns of blue cavalry. Now the 
same streets resounded to the hoofstrokes of Stuart's men, clad 
in no precise uniform, it might be — real nondescripts — but cer- 
tainly there was not a single " blue-bird " among them, unless 
he was a prisoner. 

It was this spectacle of gray nondescripts which aroused the 
general enthusiasm. As Stuart advanced, superb and smiling, 
with his brilliant blue eyes, his ebon plume, his crimson scarf, 
and his rattling sabre, in front of his men, the town, as I have 
said, grew wild. His hand was grasped by twenty persons ; 
bright eyes greeted him; beautiful lips saluted him. Believe 
me, reader, it was something to be a soldier of the C. S. A., 
when the name of that soldier was Stuart, Jackson, Gordon, or 
Rodes. Fair hands covered them with flowers, cut off their 
coat-buttons, and caressed the necks of the horses which they 
rode. Better still than that, pure hearts offered prayers for 
them ; when they fell, the brightest eyes were wet with tears. 

Most striking of all scenes of that pageant of rejoicing at 
Middleburg, was the ovation in front of a school of young girls. 
The house had poured out, as from a cornucopia, a great crowd 
of damsels, resembling, in their variegated dresses, a veritable 
collection of roses, tulips, and carnations. They were ready 



A DASH AT ALDIE. 293 

there, these living flowers, to greet their favourite, when he ap- 
peared ; and no sooner did his column come in sight in the sub- 
urbs than a wind seemed to agitate the roses, tulips, and carna- 
tions ; a murmur rose — " He is coming ! " 

Then at sight of the floating plume the tempest of welcome 
culminated. Beautiful eyes flashed, fair cheeks flushed, red lips 
were wreathed with smiles ; on every side were heard from the 
young maidens, fairly dancing for joy, exclamations of rapturous 
delight. 

As he came opposite the spot Stuart halted, and taking his 
hat ofl", saluted profoundly. But that was not enough. They 
had not assembled there to receive a mere bow. In an instant 
his hand was seized ; he was submerged in the wave of flowers ; 
for once, the cavalier who had often said to me, " I never mean 
to surrender," was fairly captured. Nor did he seem to regret 
it. He returned good for evil, and appeared to be actuated by 
the precept which commands ils to love our enemies. Those 
enemies pressed around him ; overwhelmed him with their 
thanks ; grasped his hands, and allowed the brave soldier's lip, 
as he bent from the saddle, to touch the fresh roses of their 
cheeks. 

Do you blame them ? I do not. Do you say that they were 
too "forward?" Believe me, your judgment is harsh. This 
soldier was a pure-hearted Christian gentleman, who had fought 
for those children, and meant to die for them soon. Was it 
wrong to greet him thus, as he passed, amid the storm? and does 
any young lady, who kissed him, regret it ? Do not be afraid, 
mademoiselle, should you read this page. The lip which 
touched your cheek that day never trembled when its owner 
was fighting, or going to fall, for you. That hand which you 
pressed was a brave and honest Virginian's. That heart which 
your greeting made beat faster and more proudly, was one 
which never shrank before the sternest tests of manhood ; for it 
beat in the breast of the greatest and noblest of our Southern 
cavaliers ! 

When Stuart lay down in his bivouac that night, wrapping 
his red blanket around him by the glimmering camp fire, I 



294 WEARING OF THE GRAY, 

think he must have fallen asleep with a smile on his lips, and 
that the hand of night led him to the land of Pleasant Dreams ! 



IV. 

A few words will end the present sketch. They will refer to 
the manner in which the watch and chain of Captain Gove were 
returned. 

In the year 1863, the cavalry headquarters were at " Camp 
Pelham," near Culpeper Court-house. 

The selection of that title for his camp by Stuart, will indicate 
little to the world at large. To those familiar with his peculiari- 
ties it will be different. Stuart named his various headquarters 
after some friend recently dead. " Camp Pelham " indicated 
that this young immortal had finished his career. 

Pelham, in fact, was dead. At Manassas, Williamsburg, Cold 
Harbour, Groveton, Sharpsburg, Fredericksburg, and a hundred 
other battles, he had opposed his breast to the storm, but no bul- 
let had ever struck him. In the hard and bitter struggle of 
Kelly's Ford, with Averill, in March, 1863, he had fallen. The 
whole South mourned him — dead thus at twenty-foui-. Stuart 
wept for him, and named his new quarters " Camp Pelham." 

To-day, in this autumn of 1866, the landscape must be dreary 
there ; the red flag floats no more, and Pelham lives only in 
memory. But that is enough. There are some human beings 
who, once encountered, " dare you to forget." 

To terminate my sketch. In those days of 1863, I had long 
forgotten Mountsville, the little fight there, and Captain Gove— 
for the months of war are long — when one evening at " Camp 
Pelham " I saw approach a small party of cavalrymen escorting 
a Federal prisoner. This was so common an occurrence that it 
attracted no attention. The loungers simply turned their heads; 
the men dismounted ; the orderly announced the fact to the 
General, and the Federal prisoner, who was an officer, disap 
peared behind the flap of General Stuart's tent. 

Half an hour afterwards the General came out with the 



A DASH AT ALDIE. 295 

prisoner, a short, thick-set man, and approaching the fire in front 
of my tent, introduced him to me as Captain Stone, of the 
United States Army. Then, drawing me aside, the General 
said : 

" I wish you would make Captain Stone's time pass as agreea- 
bly as possible. We ought to treat him well. In fording a 
stream near Warren ton, after his capture, he saved the life of 
Colonel Payne. The Colonel was wearing a heavy overcoat 
with a long cape, when his horse stumbled in the water, threw 
him, and as the heavy cape confined his arms, he would have 
been drowned but for the prisoner, who jumped into the water 
and saved him. You see we ought to treat him like a friend, 
rather than as a prisoner," added the General smihng, " and 1 
wish you would give him a seat and make yourself agreeable 
generally ! " 

I saluted, returned the General's laugh, and made a profound 
bow to Captain Stone as I offered him the only camp stool which 
I possessed. Then we began to talk in a manner perfectly 
friendly. 

This conversation lasted for half an hour. Then General 
Stuart, who had finished his evening's task at his desk, approach- 
ed, in company with several members of the staff, and everybody 
began to converse. The comments of Captain Stone upon his 
capture and his captors, were entirely amicable. He had been 
" taken in charge " with perfect politeness ; and his personal 
effects had been religiously respected. In proof of this statement 
he drew out his watch, and commended it as a timepiece of most 
admirable performance. 

"It is not better than mine, I think. Captain," said a member 
of the staff, with a smile ; and he drew from his breast pocket a 
large silver watch of the most approved pattern. 

" That seems to be an excellent timepiece," was the response 
of the Federal prisoner. " Where did you purchase it ? " 

" It was captured ; or rather I took it from a Federal officer 
who was dying, to preserve it — intending if I ever had an oppor- 
tunity to return it to some member of his family.'' 

Stuart took the watch and looked at it. 



298 WEAKING OF THE GRAY. 

" I remember this watch," he said ; " it belonged to Captain 
Gove, who was killed in the skirmish at Mountsville." 

" Captain Gove, of the First Ehode Island, was it, General ? '• 
asked the prisoner. 

" The same. Captain." 

" I know his people very well." 

"Then," returned Stuart, handing him the watch, "you will 
be able to return this to his family." 

So when Captain Stone left Camp Pelham on the next morn- 
ing, he took away with him the watch, which the family of the 
unfortunate Captain Gove no doubt preserve as a memorial of 
him. 

This little incident has occupied an amount of space dispro- 
portioned, it may be thought, to its importance. But memory 
will have no master. The sight of the paper which that dying 
man at Mountsville affixed his name to, aroused all these recol- 
lections. Unwritten, they haunted the writer's mind ; recorded, 
they are banished. The past takes them. There they sleep 
again, with a thousand others, gay or sorrowful, brilliant or 
lugubrious, for of this changeful warp and woof is war. 



1 



XI. 

JACKSON'S DEATH- WOUND. 



I. 

There is an event of the late war, the details of which are 
known only to a few persons ; and yet it is no exaggeration to 
say that many thousands would feel an interest in the particu- 
lars. I mean the death of Jackson. The minute circumstances 
attending it have never been published, and they are here 
recorded as matter of historical as well as personal interest. 

A few words will describe the situation of affiiirs when this 
tragic scene took place. The spring of 1862 saw a large Federal 
army assembled on the north bank of the Eappahannock, and on 
the first of May, General Hooker, its commander, had crossed, 
and firmly established himself at Chancellorsville. General 
Lee's forces were opposite Fredericksburg chiefly, a small body 
of infantry only watching the upper fords. This latter was 
compelled to fall back before General Hooker's army of about 
one hundred and fifty thousand men, and Lee hastened by forced 
marches from Fredericksburg toward Chancellorsville, with a 
force of about thirty thousand men — Longstreet being absent at 
Suffolk — to check the further advance of the enemy. This was 
on May 1st, and the Confederate advance force under Jackson, 
on the same evening, attacked General Hooker's intrenchments 
facing toward Fredericksburg. They were found impregnable, 
the dense thickets having been converted into abattis, and every 
avenue of approach defended with artillery. General Lee there- 
fore directed the assault to cease, and consulted with his corps 



298 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

commanders as to further operations. Jackson suggested a rapid 
movement around the Federal front, and a determined attack 
upon the right flank of General Hooker, west of Chancellors- 
ville. The ground on his left and in his front gave such, enor- 
mous advantages to the Federal troops that an assault there was 
impossible, and the result of the consultation was the adoption 
of Jackson's suggestion to attack the enemy's right. Every 
preparation was made that night, and on the morning of May 
second, Jackson set out with Hill's, Eodes's, and Colston's divi- 
sions, in all about twenty-two thousand men, to accomplish his 
undertaking. 

Chancellors ville was a single brick house of large dimensions, 
situated on the plank-road from Fredericksburg to Orange, and 
all around it were the thickets of the country known as the 
Wilderness. In this tangled undergrowth the Federal works 
had been thrown up, and such was the denseness of the woods 
that a column moving a mile or two to the south was not apt to 
be seen. Jackson calculated upon this, but fortune seemed 
against him. At the Catherine Furnace, a mile or two from the 
Federal line, his march was discovered, and a hot attack was 
made on his rear-guard as he moved past. All seemed now dis- 
covered, but, strange to say, sucli was not the fact. The Fede- 
ral officers saw him plainly, but the winding road which he pur- 
sued chanced here to bend toward the south, and it was after- 
ward discovered that General Hooker supposed him to be in full 
retreat wpon Richinoiid. Such at least was the statement of Fede- 
ral officers. Jackson repulsed the attack upon his rear, con- 
tinued his march, and striking into what is called the Brock 
Road, turned the head of his column northward, and rapidly 
advanced around General Hooker's right flank. A cavalry force 
under General Stuart had moved in front and on the flanks of 
the column, driving off scouting parties and other too inquisi- 
tive wayfarers ; and on reaching the junction of the Orange and 
Germanna roads a heavy Federal picket was forced to retire. 
General Fitz Lee then informed Jackson that from a hill near at 
hand he could obtain a view of the Federal works, and proceed- 
ing thither, Jackson reconnoitred. This reconnoissance showed 



Jackson's death-wound. 299 

him that he was not far enough to the left, and he said briefly to 
an aide, "Tell my column to cross that road," pointing to the 
plank-road. His object was to reach the " old turnpike," which 
ran straight down into the Federal right flank. It was reached 
at about five in the evening, and without a moment's delay 
Jackson formed his line of battle for an attack. Kodes's division 
moved in front, supported at an interval of two hundred yards 
by Colston's, and behind these A. P. Hill's division marched in 
column like the artillery, on account of the almost impenetrable 
character of the thickets on each side of the road. 

Jackson's assault was sudden and terrible. It struck the 
Eleventh corps, commanded on this occasion by General How- 
ard, and, completely surprised, they retreated in confusion upon 
the heavy works around Chancellorsville. Rodes and Colston 
followed them, took possession of the breastworks across the 
road, and a little after eight o'clock the Confederate troops were 
within less than a mile of Chancellorsville, preparing for a new 
and more determined attack. Jackson's plan was worthy of being 
the last military project conceived by that resolute and enterpris- 
ing intellect. He designed putting his entire force into action, 
extending his left, and placing that wing between General 
Hooker and the Rappahannock. Then, unless the Federal com- 
mander could cut his way through, his army would be captured 
or destroyed. Jackson commenced the execution of this plan 
with vigour, and an obvious determination to strain every nerve, 
and incur every hazard to accomplish so decisive a success. 
Rodes and Colston were directed to retire a short distance, and 
re-form their lines, now greatly mingled, and Hill was ordered 
to move to the front and take their places. On fire with his 
great design, Jackson then rode forward in front of the troops 
toward Chancellorsville, and here and then the bullet struck him 
which was to terminate his career. 

The details which follow are given on the authority of Jack- 
son's staff officers, and one or two others who witnessed all that 
occurred. In relation to the most tragic portion of the scene, 
there remained, as will be seen, but a single witness. 

Jackson had ridden forward on the turnpike to reconnoitre, 



300 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

and ascertain, if possible, in spite of the darkness of the night, 
the position of the Federal lines. The moon shone, but it was 
struggling with a bank of clouds, and afforded but a dim light. 
From the gloomy thickets on each side of the turnpike, looking 
more weird and sombre in the half light, came the melancholy 
notes of the whippoorwill. " I think there must have been ten 
thousand," said General Stuart afterwards. Such was the scene 
amid which the events now about to be narrated took place. 

Jackson had advanced with some members of his staff, con- 
siderably beyond the building known as " Melzi Chancellor's," 
about a mile from Chancellorsville, and had reached a point 
nearly opposite an old dismantled house in the woods near the 
road, whose shell-torn roof may still be seen, when he reined in 
his horse, and remaining perfectly quiet and motionless, listened 
intently for any indications of a movement in- the Federal lines. 
They were scarcely two hundred yards in front of him, and seeing 
the danger to which he exposed himself one of his staff officers 
said, "General, don't you think this is the wrong place for 
you?" He replied quickly, almost impatiently, "The danger is 
all over ! the enemy is routed — go back and tell A, P. Hill to 
press right on ! " The officer obeyed, but had scarcely disap- 
peared when a sudden volley was fired from the Confederate 
infantry in Jackson's rear, and on the right of the road — evi- 
dently directed upon him and his escort. The origin of this fire 
has never been discovered, and after Jackson's death there was 
little disposition to investigate an occurrence which occ^ioned 
bitter distress to all who by any possibility could have taken 
part in it. It is probable, however, that some movement of the 
Federal skirmishers had provoked the fire ; if this is an error, 
the troops fired deliberately upon Jackson and his party, under 
the impression that they were a body of Federal cavalry recon- 
noitring. It is said that the men had orders to open upon any 
object in front, " especially upon cavalry ; " and the absence of 
pickets or advance force of any kind on the Confederate side 
explains the rest. The enemy were almost in contact with them; 
the Federal artillery, fully commanding the position of the troops, 
was expected to open every moment; and the men were just in 






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Jackson's death- wound. 301 

that excited condition whicli induces troops to fire at any and 
every object they see. 

Whatever may have been the origin of this volley, it came, 
and many of the staff and escort were shot, and fell from their 
horses. Jackson wheeled to the left and galloped into the woods 
to get out of range of the bullets ; but he had not gone twenty 
steps beyond the edge of the turnpike, in the thicket, when one 
of his brigades drawn up within thirty yards of him fired a vol- 
ley in their turn, kneeling on the right knee, as the flash of the 
guns showed, as though prepared to "guard against cavalry." 
By this fire Jackson was wounded in three places. He received 
one ball in his left arm, two inches below the shoulder-joint, shat- 
tering the bone and severing the chief artery ; a second passed 
through the same arm between the elbow and the wrist, making 
its exit through the palm of the hand ; and a third ball entered 
the palm of his right hand, about the middle, and passing through 
broke two of the bones. At the moment when he was struck, 
he was holding his rein in his left hand, and his right was raised 
either in the singular gesture habitual to him, at times of excite- 
ment, or to protecft his face from the boughs of the trees. His 
left hand immediately dropped at his side, and his horse, no 
longer controlled by the rein, and frightened at the firing, 
wheeled suddenly and ran from the fire in the direction of the 
Federal lines. Jackson's helpless condition now exposed him 
to a distressing accident. His horse darted violently between 
two trees, from one of which a horizontal bough extended, 
at about the height of his head, to the other ; and as he passed 
between the trees, this bough struck him in the face, tore off his 
cap, and threw him violently back on his horse. The blow was 
so violent as nearly to unseat him, but it did not do so, and 
rising erect again, he caught the bridle with the broken and 
bleeding fingers of his right hand, and succeeded in turning his 
horse back into the turnpike. Here Captain Wilbourn, of his 
staff, succeeded in catching the reins and checking the animal, 
who was almost frantic from terror, at the moment when, from 
loss of blood and exhaustion, Jackson was about to fall from the 
saddle. 



o02 WEARING OF THE GPwAY. 

The scene at this time was gloomy and depressing. Horses 
mad with fright at the close firing were seen running in every 
direction, some of them riderless, others defying control ; and 
in the wood lay many wounded and dying men. Jackson's 
whole party, except Captain Wilbourn and a member of the 
signal corps, had been killed, wounded, or dispersed. The man 
riding just behind Jackson had had his horse killed; a courier 
near was wounded and his horse ran into the Federal lines ; 
Lieutenant Morrison, aide-de-camp, threw himself from the saddle, 
and his horse fell dead a moment afterwards ; Captain Howard 
was wounded and carried by his horse into the Federal camps; 
Captain Leigh had his horse shot under him ; Captain Forbes 
was killed ; and Captain Boswell, Jackson's chief engineer, was 
shot through the heart, and his dead body carried by his fright- 
ened horse into the lines of the enemy near at hand. 



11. 

Such was the fatal result of this causeless fire. It had ceased 
as- suddenly as it began, and the position in the road which 
Jackson now occupied was the same from which he had been 
driven. Captain Wilbourn, who with Mr. Wynn, of the signal 
corps, was all that was left of the party, notices a singular cir- 
cumstance which attracted his attention at this moment. The 
turnpike was utterly deserted with the exception of himself, his 
companion, and Jackson ; but in the skirting of thicket on the 
left he observed some one sitting on his horse, by the side of the 
road, and coolly looking on, motionless and silent. The un- 
known individual was clad in, a dark dress which strongly re- 
sembled the Federal uniform ; but it seemed impossible that one 
of the enemy could have penetrated to that spot without being 
discovered, and what followed seemed to prove that he belonged 
to the Confederates. Captain Wilbourn directed him to "ride 
up there and see what troops those were " — the men who had 
fired on Jackson — when the stranger slowly rode in the direction 



Jackson's death- wound. 803 

pointed out, but never returned. Who this silent personage 
was, is left to conjecture. 

Captain Wilbourn, who was standing by Jackson, now said, 
" They certainly must be our troops," to which the General as- 
sented with a nod of the head, but said nothing. He was look- 
ing up the road toward his lines with apparent astonishment, 
and continued for some time to look in that direction as if unable 
to realize that he could have been fired upon and wounded by 
his own men. His wound was bleeding profusely, the blood 
streaming down so as to fill his gauntlets, and it was necessary 
to secure assistance promptly. Captain Wilbourn asked him if 
he was much injured, and urged him to make an effort to move 
his fingers, as his ability to do this would prove that his arm was 
not broken. He endeavoured to do so, looking down at his 
hand during the attempt, but speedily gave it up, announcing 
that his arm was broken. An effort which his companion made 
to straighten it caused him great pain, and murmuring, "You 
had better take me down," he leaned forward and fell into Cap- 
tain Wilbourn's arms. He was so much exhausted by loss of 
blood that he was unable to take his feet out of the stirrups, and 
this was done by Mr. Wynn. He was then carried to the side 
of the road and laid under a small tree, where Captain Wilbourn 
supported his head while his companion went for a surgeon and 
ambulance to carr}'- him to the rear, receiving strict instructions, 
however, not to mention the occurrence to any one but Dr. 
McGuire, or other surgeon. Captain Wilbourn then made an 
examination of the General's wounds. Removing his field- 
glasses and haversack, which latter contained some paper and 
envelopes for dispatches, and two religious tracts, he put these 
on his own person for safety, and with a small pen-knife pro- 
ceeded to cut away the sleeves of the india-rubber overall, dress- 
coat, and two shirts, from the bleeding arm. 

While this duty was being performed, General Hill rode up 
with his staff, and dismounting beside the general expressed his 
great regret at the accident. To the question whether his wound 
was painful, Jackson replied, "Very painful," and added that 
"his arm was broken." General Hill pulled off his gauntlets, 



304 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

which were full of blood, and his sabre and belt were also re- 
moved. He then seemed easier, and having swallowed a mouth- 
ful of whiskey, which was held to his lips, appeared much re- 
freshed. It seemed impossible to move him without making his 
wounds bleed afresh, but it was absolutely necessary to do so, 
as the enemy were not more than a hundred and fifty yards dis- 
tant, and might advance at any moment — and all at once a proof 
was given of the dangerous position which he occupied. Cap- 
tain Adams, of General Hill's staff, had ridden ten or fifteen 
yards ahead of the group, and was now heard calling out, " Halt ! 
surrender ! fire on them if they don't surrender !" At the next 
moment he came up with two Federal skirmishers who had at 
once surrendered, with an air of astonishment, declaring that 
they were not aware they were in the Confederate lines. 

General Hill had drawn his pistol and mounted his horse ; 
and he now returned to take command of his line and advance, 
promising Jackson to keep his accident from the knowledge of 
the troops, for which the general thanked him. He had scarcely 
gone when Lieutenant Morrison, who had come up, reported the 
Federal line advancing rapidly, and then within about a hundred 
yards of the spot, and exclaimed : " Let us take the General up 
in our arms and carry him off." But Jackson said faintly, " No, 
if you can help me up, I can walk." He was accordingly lifted 
up and placed upon his feet, when the Federal batteries in front 
opened with great violence, and Captain Leigh, who had just 
arrived with a litter, had his horse killed under him by a shell. 
He leaped to the ground, near Jackson, and the latter leaning 
his right arm on Captain Leigh's shoulder, slowly dragged him- 
self along toward the Confederate lines, the blood from his 
wounded arm flowing profusely over Captain Leigh's uniform. 

Hill's lines were now in motion to meet the coming attack, 
and as the men passed Jackson, they saw from the number and 
rank of his escort that he must be a superior ofiicer. " Who is 
that — who have you there ?" was asked, to which the reply was, 
"Oh! it's only a friend of ours who is wounded." These in- 
quiries became at last so frequent that Jackson said to his escort : 
" When asked, just say it is a Confederate officer." 



Jackson's death-wound. 805 

It was with the utmost difficulty that the curiosity of the 
troops was evaded. Tiiey seemed to suspect something, and 
would go around the horses which were led along on each side 
of the General to conceal him, to see if tbey could discover who 
it was. At last one of them caught a glimpse of the general, 
who had lost his cap, as we have seen, in the woods, and was 
walking bareheaded in the moonlight — and suddenly the man 
exclaimed "in the most pitiful tone," says an eye-witness: 
" Great God ! that is General Jackson !" An evasive reply was 
made, implying that this was a mistake, and the man looked 
from the speaker to Jackson with a bewildered air, but passed 
on without further comment. All this occurred before Jackson 
had been able to drag himself more than twenty steps; but 
Captain Leigh had the litter at hand, and his strength being 
completely exhausted, the General was placed upon it, and borne 
toward the rear. 

The litter was carried by two officers and two men, the rest 
of the escort walking beside it and leading the horses. They 
had scarcely begun to move, however, when the Federal artil- 
lery opened a furious fire upon the turnpike from the works in 
front of Chancellors ville, and a hurricane of shell and canister 
swept the road. What the eye then saw was a scene of disor- 
dered troops, riderless horses, and utter confusion. The intended 
advance of the Confederates had doubtless been discovered, and 
the Federal fire was directed along the road over which they 
would move. By this fire Generals Hill and Pender, with sev- 
eral of their staff, were wounded, and one of the men carrying 
the litter was shot through both arms and dropped his burden. 
His companion did likewise, hastily flying from the dangerous 
locality, and but for Captain Leigh, who caught the handle of 
the litter, it would have fallen to the ground. Lieutenant Smith 
had been leading his own and the General's horse, but the ani- 
mals now broke away, in uncontrollable terror, and the rest of 
the party scattered to find shelter. Under these circumstances 
the litter was lowered by Captain Leigh and Lieutenant Smith 
into the road, and those officers lay down by it to protect them- 
selves, in some degree, from the heavy fire of artillery which 

20 



306 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

swept the turnpike and "struck millions of sparks from the 
flinty stones of the roadside." Jackson raised himself upon his 
elbow and attempted to get up, but Lieutenant Smith threw his 
arm across his breast and compelled him to desist. They lay in 
this manner for some minutes without moving, the hurricane 
still sweeping over them. " So far as I could see," wrote one of 
the officers, " men and horses were struggling with a most ter- 
rible death." The road was, otherwise, deserted. Jackson and 
his two officers were the sole living occupants of the spot. 

The fire of canister soooj. relaxed, though that of shot and 
shell continued ; and Jackson rose to his feet. Leaning on the 
shoulders of the party who had rejoined him, he turned aside 
from the road, which was again filling with infantry, and struck 
into the woods — one of the officers following with the litter. 
Here he moved with difficulty among the troops who were lying 
down in line of battle, and the party encountered General Pen- 
der, who had just been slightly wounded. He asked who it was 
that was wounded, and the reply was, " A Confederate officer." 
General Pender, however, recognised Jackson, and exclaimed : 
" Ah ! General, I am sorry to see you have been wounded. The 
lines here are so much broken that I fear we will have to fall 
back." These words seemed to aflect Jackson strongly. He 
raised his head, and said with a flash of the eye, " You must 
hold your ground, General Pender ! you must hold your ground, 
sir ! " This was the last order Jackson ever gave upon the 
field. 



m. 

The General's strength was now completely exhausted, and he 
asked to be permitted to lie down upon the ground. But to 
this the officers would not consent. The hot fire of artillery 
which still continued, and the expected advance of the Federal 
infantry, made it necessary to move on, and the litter was again 
put in requisition. The General, now nearly fainting, was laid 
upon it, and some litter-bearers having been procured, the whole 



JACKSON'S DEATH-WOUND. 307 

party continued to, move through the tangled woods, toward 
Melzi Chancellor's. 

So dense was the undergrowth, and the ground so difficult, 
that their progress was very slow. An accident now occasioned 
Jackson untold agony. One of the men caught his foot in a 
vine, and stumbling, let go the handle of the litter, which fell 
heavily to the ground. Jackson fell upon his left shoulder, 
where the bone had been shattered, and his agony must have 
been extreme. " For the first time," says one of the party, " he 
groaned, and that most piteously." He was quickly raised, how- 
ever, and a beam of moonlight passing through the foHage over- 
head, revealed his pale face, closed eyes, and bleeding breast. 
Those around him thouglit that he was dying. What a death 
for such a man ! All around him was the tangled wood, only 
half illumined by the struggling moonbeams ; above him burst 
the shells of the enemy, exploding, says an officer, "like showers 
of falling stars," and in the pauses came the melancholy notes 
of the whippoorwills, borne on the night air. In this strange 
wilderness, the man of Port Republic and Manassas, who had 
led so many desperate charges, seemed about to close his eyes 
and die in the night. 

But such was not to be the result then. When asked by one 
of the officers whether he was much hurt, he opened' his eyes 
and said quietly without further exhibition of pain, " No, ray 
friend, don't trouble yourself about me." The litter was then 
raised upon the shoulders of the men, the party continued their 
way, and reaching an ambulance near Melzi Chancellor's placed 
the wounded General in it. He was then borne to the field hos- 
pital at Wilderness Run, some five miles distant. 

Here he lay throughout the next day, Sunday, listening to 
the thunder of the artillery and the long roll of the musketry 
from Chancellorsville, where Stuart, who had succeeded him in 
command, was pressing General Hooker back toward the Rap- 
pahannock. His soul must have thrilled at that sound, long so 
familiar, but he could take no part in the conflict. Lying faint 
and pale, in a tent in rear of the " Wilderness Tavern," he 
seemed to be perfectly resigned, and submitted to the painful 



308 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

probing of his wounds with soldierly patience. It was obviously 
necessary to amputate the arm, and one of his surgeons asked, 
" If we find amputation necessary, Greneral, shall it be done at 
once?" to which he replied with . alacrity, "Yes, certainly. Dr. 
McGuire, do for me whatever you think right." The arm was 
then taken oflP, and he slept soundly after the operation, and on 
waking, began to converse about the battle. "If I had not 
been wounded," he said, "or had had one hour more of daylight, 
I would have cut off the enemy from the road to United States 
ford ; we would have had them entirely surrounded, and they 
would have been obliged to surrender or cut their way out ; they 
had no other alternative. My troops may sometimes fail in 
driving an enemy from a position, but the enemy always fails to 
drive my men from a position." It was about this time that we 
received the following letter from General Lee : " I have just 
received your note informing me that you were wounded. I 
cannot express my regret at the occurrence. Could I have di- 
rected events I should have chosen for the good of the country 
to have been disabled in your stead. I congratulate you upon 
the victory which is due to your skill and energy." 

The remaining details of Jackson's illness and death are 
known. He was removed to Guinney's Depot, on the Richmond 
and Fredericksburg Railroad, where he gradually sank, pneu- 
monia having attacked him. When told that his men on Sun- 
day had advanced upon the enemy shouting " Charge, and re- 
member Jackson ! " he exclaimed, "It was just like them! it 
was just like them! They are a noble body of men! The 
men who live through this war," he added, " will be proud to 
say 'I was one of the Stonewall brigade' to their children." 
Looking soon afterwards at the stump of his arm, he said, 
" Many people would regard this as a great misfortune. I re- 
gard it as one of the great blessings of my life." He subse- 
quently said, " I consider these wounds a blessing ; they were 
given me for some good and wise purpose, and I would not part 
with them if I could." 

His wife was now with him, and when she announced to him, 
weeping, his approaching death, he replied with perfect calmness. 



Jackson's death-wound. 309 

" Yeiy good, very good ; it is all right." These were nearly his 
last words. He soon afterwards became delirious, and was heard 
to mutter "Order A. P. Hill to prepare for action! — Pass the 
infantry to the front ! — Tell Major Hawks to send forward pro- 
visions for the men ! " Then his martial ardor disappeared, a 
smile diffused itself over his pale features, and he murmured : 
"Let us cross over the river and rest under the shade of the 
trees ! " It was the river of death he was about to pass ; and 
soon after uttering these words, he expired. 

Such were the circumstances attending the death-wound of 
Jackson. I have detailed them with the conciseness — but the 
accuracy, too — of o. proch-verhal. The bare statement is all that 
is necessary — comment may be spared the reader. 

The character and career of the man who thus passed from 
the arena of his glory, are the property of history. 



XII. 
FACETI^ OF THE CAMP. 

SOUVENIES OF A C. S. OFFICER. 



I. 

Nothing is more tiresome than a " Collection of Anecdotes ;" 
nothing more wearying than the task of gathering them from 
the four winds. 

In the memory of every human being, however, linger many 
" trifling incidents " which he is loth to have completely disappear 
from the sum of things. Unrecorded they are forgotten — re- 
corded they live. They may not be " important," but they are 
characteristic. They were witnessed by the narrator ; hence he 
writes or tells them with an interest infinitely greater than he feels 
in repeating what he has read, or has heard passing from mouth 
to mouth. For him the personages live, the localities exist ; the 
real surroundings frame the picture, however valueless it may ap- 
pear. If therefore, worthy reader, the following trivia seem dull 
to you, it is because you did not " know the parties," as the writer 
did. Turn the page if they weary you — but perhaps you will 
laugh. They are " trifles." it is true ; but then life is half made 
up of trifles — is it not ? 

General Fitz Lee, one day in the fall of 1863, sent a courier up 
from the Lower Rappahannock, to ask General Stuart why Gene- 
ral Pleasanton of the U. S. Army " had been sent to Georgia ?" 
— a dispatch by signal from corps headquarters having com- 
municated that intelligence. 



FACETIJE OF THE CAMP. 811 

Grand tableau when the affair was explained I 

General Stuart had signalled : " Meade's Headquarters are at 
Wallack's, and Pleasanton's at Cumberland George's'^ — names oi 
persons residing near Culpeper Court-hoase. 

The signal flags had said : " Meade's headquarters are at 
Wallack's, and Pleasanton's at Cumberland Georgia P'' 



II. 

In ISTovember, 1863, Lieutenant was in an old deserted man- 
sion near Culpeper Court-house, with some prisoners confined in 
the upper rooms ; the enemy not being far distant. While wait- 
ing, a blaze shot up from a fire which some soldiers had kindled 
near, and threw the shadow of the Lieutenant on the wall. 
Thinking the shadow was a human being he called out : 

"Halt! there!" 

No reply from the intruder. 

" Answer, or I fire ! " 

The same silence — when the Lieutenant drew a pistol from his 
belt. The shadow did the same. The pistol was levelled : the 
opposing weapon performed the same manoeuvre. The Lieute- 
nant thereupon was about to draw trigger, when one of his men 
called out : 

" Why law ! Lieutenant, it ain't nothin' but your own 
shadow ! " 

Immense enjoyment in camp, of this historic occurrence. 
Colonel ' , our gay visitor, drew a sketch of the scene, append- 
ing to it the words : 

" Now by the Apostle Paul : shadows to-night 

Have struck more terror to the soul of 

Than could the substance of ten thousand soldiers 
Armed all in proof and led by shallow Buford! " 



312 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 



III. 



Captain P was the best of good fellows, and the most 

amiable of signal officers. He was visiting his signal posts near 
Culpeper one day, when an infantry-man, clad in a "butternut" 
costume lounged up, and looked on with the deepest interest 
while the man on duty was " flopping" away right and left with 
his flag. Butternut continued to gaze with ardour upon the 
movements of the signal-man's flag ; then he suddenly drawled 
out in a tone of affectionate interest : 

" I sa-a-y, str-a-nger ! Are the fli-ies a pestering of you ? " 



IV. 

In 1863 the enemy caught an old countryman near Madison 
Court-house, and informed him that he must do one of two 
things — either take the oath of allegiance to the United States 
Government or prepare to be buried alive. He declined taking 
the oath, when his captors deliberately proceeded in his presence 
to dig a grave, and when it was finished they led him to it, and 
said: 

" Will you take the oath ? " 

" No !" responded the prisoner. 

" You had better ! " 

" I won't ! " 

'* If you don't take that oath you'll be buried alive in that 
grave, in the next five minutes! " 

The old fellow approached nearer, looked with attention at 
the pit yawning before him, and then turning round with his 
hands in his pockets replied calmly : 

" Well, go on with your d — d old funeral ! " 

Laughter from the blue-birds, and release of the prisoner aa, 
in the fullest acceptation of the phrase, a " hard case. " 



FACETI^ OF THE CAMP. 313 



V. 



General Order to Inspector-General Y , from Corps Head- 
quarters : — 

" Cry aloud — spare not — show my people their transgres- 
sions I " 



VI. 

General made a true cavalier's speech, one evening at 

our camp on the Eapidan. lie had ridden to headquarters on his 
beautiful mare " Nelly Gray," whom he had had ever since the 
first battle of Manassas, and had thus become warmly attached 
to. When he went to mount again, he found the mare wince 
under him, and after riding a few yards, discovered she was 
lame, and limped painfully. 

Thereupon the General dismounted, examined the hoof, rose 
erect again, and uttering a deep sigh exclaimed : 

"Poor Nelly! I wish they could fix it some way, so as you 
could ride me home ! " 

That ought to find a place in the biography of the brave 
officer who uttered it. 



VII. 

While I was in the Valley in 1863, I heard an incident which 
was enough to " tickle the ribs of Death," and for its truth I can 
vouch. A body of the enemy's cavalry had advanced to the 
vicinity of Millwood, and two or three men left the column to go 
and " forage," that is, take by the strong hand what they wanted 
for supper, from the first house. Very soon they came in sight 
of a cabin in the woods, and cautiousl}'- approaching — for the 
Confederate scouts were supposed to be everywhere — knocked 
at the low door. 

A negro woman came at the summons, exhibiting very great 



314 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

terror at the sight of the blue coats — and the following colloquy 
ensued : 

" "We want some supper." 

"Yes, sir." 

" But, first, is there anybody here ? " 

" No,' sir." 

" Are you sure ? " 

" Oh ! they ain't nobody here but me — 'cept — " 

" Except who ? " 

" Only Colonel Mosby, sir." 

" Colonel Mosby ! ! ! " exclaimed the speaker, with at least 
three exclamation points in his accent, and getting hastily into 
the saddle. 

" Are you joking? " he added. " You better not. Is Cohnel 
Mosby here?" 

" Ye — s, sir," stammered the woman in great terror ; and at 
the same moment a low noise like that produced by the footstep 
of a man was heard within. 

No sooner did they hear this than the men turned their horses' 
heads, hurried off, and, rejoining their command, reported that 
Colonel Mosby, the celebrated partisan and "guerilla," was 
alone in a house in the woods — to which house they could easily 
conduct a party for his capture. 

The information was promptly conveyed to the of&cer in com- 
mand, and as promptly acted upon. A detachment was imme- 
diately ordered to mount, and, led by the guides, they advanced 
straight towards the house, which they soon saw rise before 
them. 

It was then necessary to act with caution. Colonel Mosby 
was well known to be an ofl&cer of desperate courage, and it was 
certain that before permitting himself to be captured he would 
make a resolute resistance. This was to be counted on, both 
from the soldierly nerve of the individual and from the fact that 
he was regarded by many of his enemies as a " bushwhacker " 
and outlaw, and might be hanged to the first tree, if captured, 
not treated as a prisoner of war. From this resulted the con- 
viction that the celebrated partisan would sell his life dearly ; 



FACETLS: OF THE CAMP. 315 

and the party bent upon his capture omitted no precautions in 
advancing to attack the wild animal in his lair. 

An advance-guard was thrown forward ; carbineers were dis- 
mounted, and directed to make a circuit and approach the house, 
from front, flanks, and rear ; and having thus made his disposi- 
tions, the officer in command pushed up at the head of his men 
to the house, at the door of which he gave a thundering knock. 

ITo sooner had the trembling negro woman laid her hand on 
the latch to reply to this summons, than the force burst in, 
cocked pistols in hand, ready to capture Mosby. 

He was not visible. In fact there was no other human being 
in the cabin except a negro baby, lying in a cradle, and sucking 
its thumb. 

" Where is Mosby ? " thundered the officer. 

' Oh ! there he is ! " was the trembling reply of the woman. 

"Where?" 

" There, sir 1 " 

And the woman pointed to the cradle. 

" What do you mean ? " 

" Oh, sir ! I don't mean — I didn't mean nothin' ! I call him 
' Mosby,' sir — ' Colonel Mosby,' sir — that's his name, sir ! " 

And awaiting her doom, she stood trembling before the 
intruders. Those personages looked from the woman to the 
baby, sucking away at his thumb ; scowled, growled, took ano- 
ther look ; saw that the woman told the truth ; and then a roar 
of laughter followed, which continued until they had mounted 
and were out of sight. 

It is said that this incident was not mentioned by the men 
upon their return ; they only reported Mosby " not found." 
I have mentioned it, however, and I vouch for it. The mother 
of " Colonel Mosby," Black and Jr., was a servant of the hospi- 
table mansion in which I tarried ; the family declared the inci- 
dent exactly true ; and the hero of the affair, the black baby, 
namely, is still living. Lastly, I know the woman ; she is very 
worthless, but aU are. 



316 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 



VIII. 



Thexe was down in Stafford, during the war, a youthful negro 
of six or eight years of age, who excited the admiration of every- 
body by his passionate devotion to the Confederacy, and the 
" big words " which he used. In fact, his vocabulary was made 
up of what Mr. Thackeray calls " the longest and handsomest 
words in the dictionary." 

Still he could be terse, pointed, epigrammatic, and hard-cut- 
ting in speech. Of these statements two illustrations are given. 

1. When an artillery fight took place near the mansion which 
had the honour of sheltering him, the young African was observed 
to pause, assume an attitude of extreme attention, remove his 
hat, scratch his head, and listen. Then turning to his master, 
he said with dignity, " Hear that artillery, sir. Those are, 
beyond a doubt, the guns of Stonewall Jackson." 

2. Second illustration. A Federal officer of high rank and 
character, a bitter Democrat and opponent of the negro-loving 
party, with an extreme disgust, indeed, for the whole black race ; 
this gentleman visited the house where the young Crichton lived, 
and taking a seat in the parlour, began conversing with the ladies. 

While so doing he was startled by a voice at his elbow, and a 
vigorous clap upon the back of his splendid uniform. Turning 
quickly in extreme wrath at this disrespect, he saw the grinning 
face ^f young ebony behind him ; and from the lips of the 
youth issued the loud and friendly address : 

" Hallo, Yank ! Do you belong to Mr. Lincoln ? You are 
fighting for me — ain't you ? " 

The officer recoiled in disgust, looked daggers, and brushing 
his uniform, as though it had been contaminated, growled to the 
lady of the house : 

" You taught him this, madam I " 



FACETI^ OF THE CAMP. 317 



IX. 

In June, 1863, General Lee was going to set out for Gettys- 
burg. To mask the movement of his infantry from the Lower 
Rappahannock, a cavalry review was ordered, on the plains of 
Culpeper. 

That gay and gallant commander. General Fitz Lee, there- 
upon, sent word to General Hood to "come and see the review, 
and bring any of his people " — meaning probably his staff and 
headquarters. 

On the second day the gray masses of Hood's entire division 
emerged, with glittering bayonets, from the woods in the direc- 
tion of the Rapidan. 

"You invited me and my people^''^ said Hood, shaking hands 
with General Fitz, " and you see I have brought them ! " 

Laughter followed, and General Fitz Lee said : 

"Well, don't let them halloo, 'Here's your mule!' at the 
review." 

" If they do we will charge you ! " interrupted General Wade 
Hampton, laughing. 

For all that the graybacks of Hood, who duly attended the 
review, did not suppress their opinions of the cavalry. As the 
horsemen charged by the tall flag under which General R. E. 
Lee sat his horse looking at them, a weather-beaten Texan of 
Hood's "Old Brigade" turned round to a comrade and muttered : 

" Wouldn't we clean them out, if Old Hood would only let us 
loose on 'em ! " 

The infantry never could forgive their cavalry brethren the 
possession of horses — while they had to walk. 



X. 

General W gave me, one day, a good anecdote of Cedar 

Run. He was then Colonel of artillery, and when the Confede- 
rates' left wing was thrown into disorder, strenuously exerted 



318 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

himself to induce the stragglers to return to the fight. This was 
not an easy task — the troops were demoralized for the moment 
by the suddenness of the attack. 

In consequence, the Colonel had small success ; and this en- 
raged -him. When enraged the Colonel swore, and when he 
swore he did so with extraordinary vehemence and eloquence. 
On this occasion he surpassed all his previous performances, 
uttering a volley of oaths sufficient to make a good Christian's 
hair rise up. 

He had just grasped the collar of a straggler, who would not 
stop at his order, and was discharging at him a perfect torrent 
of curses, when, chancing to turn his head, he saw close behind 
him no less a personage than the oath-hating and sternly-pious 
General Stonewall Jackson. 

Jackson's aversion to profanity was proverbial in the army. 

It was known to excite his extreme displeasure. Colonel W 

therefore stopped abruptly, hung his head, and awaited in silence 
the stern rebuke of his superior. 

It came in these words, uttered in the mildest tone : 

" That's right, Colonel — get 'em up ! " 



XI. 

Another anecdote of Jackson — but this one, I fear, has crept 
into print. Some readers, however, may not have seen it. 

After Port Republic, the General was riding along the line 
when he heard the following colloquy between two soldiers of 
the Stonewall Brigade. 

" Curse the Yankees ! I wish they were in hell, every one of 
them ! " 

" I don't." 

" Why don't you ? " 

" Because if they were. Old Jack would be following 'em up 
close, with the old Stonewall Brigade in front I" 

Jackson's face writhed into a grin ; from his lips a low laugh 
issued ; but he rode on in silence, making no comment. 



FACETLai OF THE CAMP. 319 



XII. 



General C was proverbial for his stubborn courage and 

bulldog obstinacy in a fight. In every battle his brigade was 
torn to pieces — for he would never leave the ground until he 
was hurled back from it, crushed and bleeding. 

The views of such a man on the subject of military courage 
are worth knowing. He gave them to me briefly one day, on 
the battle-field. 

Here is the statement of General C . 

" The man who says that he likes to go into an infantry charge, 
such as there was at Spotsylvania — is a liar ! " 



PART III. 

OUTLINES FROM THE OUTPOST. 



21 



L 

A SCOUT ACROSS THE RAPPAHANNOCK. 



My friend, Lieutenant T , is a beau gargon. He is tall, 

comely, about nineteen, and calls a very illustrious personage 
'• Cousin Kobert." He wears a hat with a wide rim, and an 
ebon feather " floating free " as becomes a cavalry officer ; around 
his waist a black leather belt holds his pistol ; huge horseman's 
boots reach above his knees, and afford him in his leisure mo- 
ments a very great resource in pulling them up. 

Many idle hours have afflicted my friend lately in consequence 
of the cessation of hostilities. He has spent his time chiefly in 
whittling sticks, which proves an unfailing, though not exciting 
resource to him. While whittling he talks, and he is a gay and 
delightful companion ; relating his adventures with a charming 
nonchalance, and laughing " in the pauses." Though still young, 
he has had numerous experiences of a stirring character. In 
Maryland, just before the battle of Sharpsburg, he was taken 
prisoner, and had a private interview with Greneral McClellan, 
who had known some of his relations, and sent for him. The 
General, he declares, was a very pleasant personage, and very 
much of a gentleman ; easy, bland, smiling ; and asked " how 
many brigades of cavalry Stuart had." Whereto my friend 
replied evasively, when the General added, laughing : 

" Oh, I merely asked to satisfy my private curiosity — not to 
extract information." 

"Of course. General." 

"I have heard he had four brigades." 

"If you have heard that, of course it must be so. General." 

Laughter from General McClellan, and friendly termination 



324 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

of the interview. The General, he says, was " quite a gentle- 
man," and ordered him to be released on his parole to return to 
and remain in the county of Fauquier until he was exchanged. 
Returned there ; and was still at home when — McClellan's head 
having fallen — Burnside came along, when he was arrested as a 
suspicious character, and taken before the new commander, 
Burnside, portly, polite, not at all stern — rather good-humoured. 

T gave an account of himself, and was released and sent 

back to his home in Fauquier. Here he remained until a scout- 
ing party of his friends came in, when he had himself captured 
and returned to the army. He did not make this return journey 
on foot. He was mounted, as became a cavalier — but on a white 
mule. This white mule was not, however, a portion of his 
patrimonial property of a movable character. He procured it 
from al^ortbern friend in the following manner: he was wearily 
walking along the road, and saw a " blue-bird " approach him, 
mounted on the mule in question. He was unarmed, but so 
was my friend — and the Lieutenant immediately, in a voice of 
thunder, ordered him to get down and surrender. The blue- 
bird obeyed, and the Lieutenant mounted — magnanimously per- 
mitting his prisoner to go free, inasmuch as he had no means of 
securing him. Having paroled .him formally, he made haste out 
of the line. 

Such is the young Lieutenant who, having nothing to do, 
whittles sticks. 

He has a comrade whose name is Lieutenant H . This 

young gentleman is of about the same age, and his countenance 
is comely and smooth. His manners are unusually soft and 
mild, and he spends all his leisure in reading. He is familiar 
with Shakspeare, and quotes that great bard, going through all 
the attitudes, and astonishing the bystanders. Having mounted 
my horse some days since to visit a young lady, I was suddenly 

startled by the appearance of Lieutenant H , who, leaning 

one hand on my knee, struck an attitude, and broke forth, "Tell 
her she's the sun, and I the moon ! Arise, fair sun, and shine 
upon my night ! " Having entrusted me with this commission, 
my friend returned in silence to his literary pursuits. The Lieu- 



A SCOUT ACROSS THE RAPPAHANNOCK. 325 

tenant is so mild and comely of face, that he has been declared 
to be "like a girl." But he is a man, and a dangerous one, 
when after the blue-coats. He is devoted to these, and pays 
them his respects upon all occasions. He is fond of reading, 
but greatly prefers fighting. Happily married, and keeping 
house with his helpmate, in camp, he is still impatient at the 

idlesse of the times. Like his friend, Lieutenant T , he is 

longing for some movement, and sustains the dull days with 
difficulty. 

If the characters of my two friends are sufficiently indicated 
by the above sketch, the reader will comprehend with what 
pleasure they obtained permission in December last»(1862) to go 
on a romantic little scout into the lines of the enemy, beyond 
the Rappahannock. Burnside was then getting ready to cross 
at Fredericksburg, and his cavalry scouted daily along the north 
bank of the river, up and down — so the commission of entering 
King Greorge was an exciting one, promising no little adven- 
ture. 

But to procure information of the enemy's designs was only a 
part of their orders — the most agreeable portion remains behind. 
They were directed not only to spy out the land, and the po- 
sition of the foe, but also to escort a young lady, then in King 
George county, through the enemy's lines into our own. As 
the reader will imagine, this was far from disagreeable to the 
chivalric young officers ; and they made their preparations with 
alacrity. 

Leaving their swords behind, as calculated to impede their 
movements when they entered the enemy's country, as they 
must do, on foot, they took only pistol and carbine, and set out 
for a point down the river. 

The place which they chose for crossing was Port Royal, that 
lovely little village which nestles down prettily, like a bird, in 
the green fields — and here, leaving their horses at the house of 
a friend, they were taken across in a canoe, by a sympathizing 
boatman, and landed on the northern bank. 

From that moment it was necessary to bring into pla}^ all the 
keenness and ready faculties of the woodman and the scoat. 



326 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

They were armed, as I have said, with pistol and carbine ; but 
these were of little use against the enemy, who, if encountered 
at all, would outnumber and overpower them. Their only hopes 
of success lay in eluding such scouting parties as they came 
across, ^nd "snaking it " to their destination and back again. 

Soon after leaving the river their adventures commenced. 
Avoiding the roads, and making their way through the woods, 
they came all at once upon a large Federal camp, and passed so 
near it that they could hear the words uttered by the soldiers, 
but fortunately the darkness of the night prevented them from 
being seen. Leaving the camp to the right, they continued 
their way, walking all night, and giving a wide berth to such 
picket fires as they saw glimmering near their route. They thus 
reached in safety the house of a lady whom one of the party 
knew, and where they were certain of food and rest. These 
were now greatly needed by the young adventurers. Their 
tramp had been exciting and prolonged, over very rough ground 
— they had not tasted food since ^ the preceding day — and the 
whole night had been spent upon the road, or rather in the 
woods, without rest or sleep. 

Reaching the hospitable mansion about daybreak, they aroused 
the lady, and informed her, in a few words, of their object. 
" Up went the hushed amaze of hand and eye," as the English 
laureate says; but the worthy dame acted quickly. Without 
stopping to parley she admitted them, closed the door, and had 
an excellent breakfast prepared at once. Plaving done full 
honour to the meal, the young men, worn out with fatigue and 
want of sleep, went to bed, and slept several hours, quite ob- 
livious of the fact that they were far within the lines of the 
enemy, and subject at any moment to be "caught napping." 

Eising at last, the first thing which they did was to look 
around for something more to eat ! It was ready on the table, 
awaiting them, and they attacked the substantial viands as if 
they had not eaten before for a month. Some excellent cider 
accompanied the solids — and this, it appeared, was a present 
from a young lady who, living close by, had been informed of 
their presence, and thus manifested her sympathy. 



A SCOUT ACROSS THE RAPPAHANNOCK. 827 

As they rose from the table, the young lady in question entered 
the dining-room ; and loolsing very attentively at Lieutenant 
T , said, smiling : 

" I have your picture, sir I " 

The young man was naturally astonished at the announce- 
ment, as he had certainly never seen the young girl before ; and 
said, with a laugh, that she must be mistaken. 

" No, indeed I am not," was the smiling reply ; " are you not 
Lieutenant T ? " 

" Yes, madam." 

" As I thought." 

And the explanation followed. The young lady had a cousin 

who had gone to school with Lieutenant T , and the two had 

become great friends. When thej'' parted, they had recourse to 
a friendly means of remembering each other, very common with 
young men — they had their daguerreotypes taken together, both 
in the same picture, and each took one. The 3^oung lady's cou- 
sin had presented his own to her ; and thus as soon as she saw 

Lieutenant T , she recognised the original of the friend of 

whom her cousinhad often spoken. 

This romantic little incident was far from putting the young 
adventurers in a bad humour with their enterprise. They tarried 
at the house of the hospitable dame long enough to become excel- 
lent friends with the pretty maiden, and to procure all the in- 
formation which the ladies could give them. Then, as soon as 
the shades of evening drew on, they took up the line of march 
again toward their destination — passing more Federal camps, but 
running the gauntlet successfully between them all — and arriving 
safely. 

Disappointment awaited them here. The fair lady whom they 
came to carry off to the "happy land of Dixie," was not ready to 
return with them. For some reason — doubtless a good one, 
which I may have heard, but have now forgotten — she determined 
to remain where she was ; and the young men, having secured 
valuable information of the number and positions of the enemy, 
set out on their return. 

They succeeded, after many adventures, in reaching the vicini- 



828 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

ty of the river again. To recross was the great difficulty — for 
there was no longer a sympathizing friend near at hand with a 
boat. *■ In addition to this, the banks were at this point thorough- 
ly picketed, and they were in danger of being stopped by a mus- 
ket-ball if they even secured a canoe. 

The attempt to cross was necessary to be made, however. It 
was now night, and if they were detained on the north bank of 
the Eappahannock until the next day, they would be in im- 
minent danger of capture. 

They accordingly set to work. Necessity, the benign mother of 
invention, pointed out two logs, lying in a sort of marsh, on the 
edge of the stream ; and these logs the young men proceeded to 
lash together. Having no cords of any description, they used 
their suspenders, and finally succeeded in launching the im- 
promptu raft upon the stream. 

As it floated off, they found all at once that they were moving 
into view of a sentinel posted upon the rising ground beyond 
the swampy bottom ; and every moment expected to be chal 
lenged — the challenge to be succeeded b}^ the whizzing of balls. 

The enterprise terminated for the moment, differentl}^, however. 
The raft had been constructed without very profound science ; 

the suspenders gave way ; and Lieutenant T found himself 

astraddle one log, and Lieutenant H the other. 

Grand tableau ! — and the aforesaid " happy land of Dixie" as 
far off as ever ! 

They were forced to return to the northern bank, which they 
succeeded in doing with difficulty, and " as wet as drowned rats.'- 
It was necessary to scout along the stream, to find if possible 
some better means of crossing. This river is difficult to pass — 
General Burnside was, at the same moment, engaged in the same 
task which absorbed the energies of the gay youths. 

Ascending the bank, and flanking the picket, they plunged 
into the wood, and struck down the river. 

They were not to be so fortunate as before. 

Seeing no picket-fires for a long way ahead, they ventured 
into the road — but were suddenly startled by the tramp of cavalry 
coming toward them from below. 



A SCOUT ACROSS THE RAPPAHANNOCE. 329 

They leaped the ditch and brushwood fence, and were about to 
scud across the field, when the troop was upon them, and dis- 
covered the moving figures in the dim starlight. 

"Halt! " came from the officer in command, as he drew up; 
and seeing that their further progress would be arrested by a 
shower of carbine balls, the young men threw themselves upon, 
the ground close beside the brush fence, trusting to the darkness 
to hide them. 

"I certainl}^ saw men there," said the officer, 

"I don't think it was anything but cows," said another voice. 

" Send a man to see." 

And a trooper pushed across into the field, and rode up to the 
truants, who, finding themselves discovered, put the best face 
upon the matter. 

They were conducted to the officer in command, who said : 

" Who are you? " . 

" Third Indiana Cavalry," responded Lieutenant T , 

promptly. 

" What are you doing here, away from your regiment ? " 

" We were left behind, sick, sir," was the reply, "and sent on 
our horses with the baggage. We are now looking for the 
camp." 

This was uttered in the most plausible manner imaginable, and 
as the darkness hid the young man's Confederate uniform, there 
was nothing suspicious about him to the eyes of the officer. The 
two youths seemed to be what they represented themselves — 
stragglers or sick, trying to rejoin their companies — and no 
doubts appeared to rest upon the Federal Captain's mind. 

He reprimanded them for dodging about, and proceeded on his 
way — taking the precaution, however, of a good officer, of leaving 
a mounted man in charge of them, with orders to conduct them 
to the camp of the regiment to which he belonged, about half a 
mile distant, and report to the Colonel. 

The troop was soon out of sight, and the cavalry-man and his 
prisoners proceeded slowly in the same direction ; their conduc- 
tor holding a cocked pistol in his right hand. 

The young men exchanged glances. Now or never was their 



330 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

opportunity. In fact, something more than loss of liberty was 
involved in their capture. They had represented themselves as 
members of the Third Indiana Cavalry ; were within the Federal 
lines ; they were clearly reducible under the head of spies ; and 
in that character would have a short shrift and a stout rope for 
their pains. 

The camp was near, the time short, action was necessary. 

To action they accordingly proceeded. 

Lieutenant H , as I have said, is young ; has an engaging- 
ly girlish expression of countenance, and his voice is as bland 
and kindly as possible. 

" You have a good horse, there, my friend," said Lieutenant 
H mildly, and with an innocent smile. 

" Yes, 5iV," was the reply ; "as good a horse as ever was 
foaled in the State of York." 

" What stock is he ? " continued Lieutenant H , softly ; 

and he laid his hand on the rein as he spoke. 

Before the cavalry-man could reply, Lieutenant H made 

a sudden clutch at the pistol which the trooper held ; missed it, 
and found the muzzle instantly thrust into his face. 

It was quickly discharged, and again, and again ; but strange 
to say, not a single ball took effect. 

Lieutenant H — — retreated, and the trooper turned round 

and rode at Lieutenant T , who was armed with a carbine 

which he had borrowed from me for the expedition. 

As the trooper rode at him, he raised the weapon, took aim, 
and fired. In narrating this portion of his adventures, the Lieu- 
tenant says : 

" I don't know whether I killed him, but he gurgled in his 
throat, his horse whirled round and ran, and fifry j'ards off, he 
fell from the saddle." 

To continue my narrative. The situation of the youths was 
more critical than ever after the " suppression " of the trooper. 
The company of cavalry were not far off; the firing had certain- 
ly been heard, and a detachment would speedily be sent back to 
inquire what had occasioned it, even if the riderless horse did 
not announce fully all that had taken place. No time was to be 



A SCOUT ACROSS THE RAPPAHANNOCK. 331 

lost, and the adventurous youths leaped the brush fence, ran 
across the field, and took shelter in a pine thicket, through which 
thej continued to advance as before, down the river. 

They did not observe any signs of pursuit, and after a weary 
march, reached the vicinity of Port Conway. 

One more incident occurred. 

Toward daylight they found themselves near a country house 
on the river bank. Half dead for want of food, for they had 
eaten nothing since the forenoon of the preceding day, they ven- 
tured to approach the building, and knocked at the door. 

No reply came ; no evidence that the place was inhabited. 
They knocked again, and this time were more successful. 

An upper window of the house was raised, the head of a lady 
in coiffure de nuit thrust out, and a voice asked — 

'• Who is there ? " 

" Friends," returned Lieutenant T , at a venture ; " we are 

worn out with hunger and fatigue, and want a little bread and 
rest." 

" The old story ! " returned the voice ; " I am tired of you 
stragglers." 

" Stragglers ! " 

" Yes ; there are thousands of you going about and plunder- 
ing people. You can't come in ! " 

And the head made a motion to retire. 

My friend, Lieutenant T , is an intelligent youth. He 

understands readil}'', and an instant sufficed to make him compre- 
hend that he and his friend v/ere refused admittance because 
they were regarded as Yankees. There were no other " strag- 
glers " in that region ; it was plain how the land lay in regard 
to the fair lady's sentiments, and the result of these quick reflec- 
tions was the reply : 

" We are not Yankees, we are Confederates ! " 

At these words the head all at once returned to the frame- 
work of the window. 

" Confederates ! " exclaimed the head ; " you are trying to 
deceive -me." 

" Indeed we are not ! " 



332 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

" "What are you doing over here ? " 

" We came across on a scout, and are now going back. We 
were captured by a party of cavalry, but got away from them, 
and are pushing down the river to find a place to cross." 

" Are you telling me the truth ? " 

" Indeed we are." 

" What is your name ? " 

" Lieutenant T T ." 

" What is the name of your home? " 

" Kinloch." 

" What is your father's name ? " 

The young man gave it. 

" Your mother''s name ? " 

He gave that, also. 

" You are my cousin ! " said the lady, completely satisfied ; 
" wait and I will come down and let you in." 

Who will doubt about the clans of Virginia after that ! 

The good lady, who was really a relative of Lieutenant T , 

admitted them, gave them a warm welcome, and 'a hot break- 
fast ; had her best beds prepared for them ; and as before, they 
proved mighty trenchermen ; after which they proceeded to sleep 
like the seven champions of Christendom. 

On the same afternoon they succeeded in procuring a canoe, 
bade their good hostess farewell, and crossed the river, just in 
time to hear the roar of the cannon at Fredericksburg. These 
events had passed between the tenth and thirteenth days of 
December. 

I have used no colours of fancy in narrating the adventure ; 
my sketch is a simple statement of facts, which I hope will 
amuse some of my readers. 

Lieutenant T related the incidents of the trip with cheer- 
ful laughter, and wound up by saying, as he sat by the blazing 
fire in my tent : 

" I tell you, I am glad to get back here, Captain ! " 



11. 

HOW I WAS ARRESTED. 



I. 

I WAS sitting in my tent one day in the year 1863, idly gazing 
over a newspaper, when my eye fell upon the following para- 
graph : 

" Killed on tlie Blackiuater. — We learn that Captain Edelin, of 
the old First Maryland Regiment, but who recently joined the 
Confederate forces in North Carolina, was killed a few days since 
in a skirmish on the Blackwater." 

I laid down the paper containing this announcement, and 
speedily found m3^self indulging in reverie. 

"Thus fall," I murmured, "from the rolls of mortality the 
names we have known, uttered, been familiar with ! The beings 
with whom we are thrown, whose hands we touch, whose voices 
we hear, who smile or frown as the spirit moves them, are to-mor- 
row beyond the stars. They are extinguished like the fitful 
.and wandering fires of evening — like those will-o'-wisps which 
dance for an hour around the fields and then disappear in the 
gathering darkness ! " 

This " Captain Edelin, of the old First Maryland Regiment," 
I had chanced to know. It was but a moment — his face passed 
before me like a dream, never more to return ; but reading that 
paragraph announcing his death recalled him to me clearly as I 
saw and talked with him one night on the outpost, long ago. 

Captain Edelin once arrested me at my own request. 



334 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

Let me recall in detail, the incidents which led to this acquaint- 
ance with him. 

It was, I think, in December, 1861. 

I was at that time Yolunteer A. D. C; to General Stuart of the 
cavalry,, and was travelling from Leesburg to his headquarters, 
which were on the Warrenton road, between Fairfax and Centre- 
ville. 

I travelled in a light one-horse vehicle, an unusual mode of con- 
veyance for a soldier, but adopted for the convenience it afforded 
me in transporting my blankets, clothes, sword, and other personal 
effects, which would certainly have sunk a horseman fathoms 
deep in the terrible mud of the region, there to remain like the 
petrified Eoman sentinel dug out from Pompeii. 

The vehicle in question was drawn by a stout horse, who was 
driven by a cheerful young African ; and achieving an ultimate 
triumph over the Gum Spring road, we debouched into the 
Little River turnpike, and came past the " Double Toll-gate '' to 
the Frying Pan road. 

Here the first picket halted me. But the Lieutenant of the 
picket took an intelligent view of things, and suffered me to 
continue the road to Centreville. 

Toward that place, accordingly, I proceeded, over the before- 
mentioned " Frying Pan," which, like the " Charles City road " 
below Richmond, means anything you choose. 

Night had fully set in by the time I reached Meacham's, a 
mile from Centreville ; and I then remembered for the first time 
that general orders forbade the entrance of carriages of any 
description into the camp. 

This general order, in its special application to myself, was 
disagreeable. In fact, it was wanton cruelty, and for the follow- 
ing good reasons. 

1. I was tired and hungry. 

2. That was my route to the headquarters I sought. 

3. By any other road I should arrive too late for supper. 

This reasoning appeared conclusive, but there was the inexora- 
ble order ; and some method of flanking Centreville must be 
devised. 



HOW I WAS AKRESTED. 835 

The method presented itself in a road branching off to the left, 
which I immediately turned into. A small house presented 
itself, and inquiring the way, I was informed by a cheerful-look- 
ing matron that the road in question was the very one which 
" led to the turnpike." 

Never did Delphic oracle make a more truthful or a falser 
announcement. It was the Warrenton turnpike which I desired 
to reach by flanking Centreville, and cutting off the angle — and 
lo ! with a cheerful heart, I was journeying, as will be seen, to- 
ward other regions ! 

The vehicle proceeded on its way without further pause, 
merrily gliding along the forest road between dusky pine 
thickets, the heart of the wandering soldier inspired by the vision 
of an early supper. 

The evening was mild for December — the heavens studded 
with stars. JSTow that I had found the road, and would soon 
arrive, the landscape became picturesque and attractive. 

Lonely cavalrymen appeared and disappeared; scrutinizing 
eyes reconnoitred the suspicious vehicle as it passed ; noises of 
stamping horses were heard in the depths of the thicket. But 
accustomed to these sights and sounds, the adventurous traveller 
in search of lodging and supper did not disquiet himself 

Mile after mile was thus traversed. Still the interminable rbad 
through the pines stretched on and on. Its terminus seemed as 
distant as the crack of doom. 

Most mysterious of mysteries I The Warrenton turnpike did 
not appear, though I knew it was but a mile or two through to it. 
Where was it ? Had it disappeared under the influence of some 
enchantment ? Had I dreamed that I knew the country thorough- 
ly, from having camped there so long, and had I never in reality 
visited it ? It so appeared ; I was certainly travelling over a 
road which I had never before traversed. 

One resource remained — philosophy. To that I betook my- 
self When a traveller of philosophic temperament finds that he 
has lost his way, he is apt to argue the matter with cheerful logic 
as follows : 

1. The road I am following must lead somewhere. 



336 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

2. At that " somewhere," which I am sure eventually to reach, 
I shall find some person who will have the politeness to inform 
me in what part of the globe I am. 

Having recourse to this mode of reasoning, I proceeded through 
the pines with a cheerful spirit, entered a large field through 
which the road ran, and at the opposite extremity " stumbled on 
a stationary voice." 

This voice uttered the familiar 

"Haiti Who goes there?" 

" Friend without the countersign." 

" Advance, friend ! " 

I jumped out and walked to the voice, which remained sta- 
tionary. 

" I am going to General Stuart's headquarters. Came from 
Leesburg and have no countersign. This is a picket? " 

"Yes." 

" Where is the officer of the picket ? " 

" At the fire yonder. I will go with you." 

" Then you are not the sentinel ? " 

" No ; the Serjeant." 

And the serjeant and myself walked amicably towards the 
picket fire, which was burning under a large tree, just on the 
side of the turnpike. 

The turnpike! Alas! 

But, as the novelists say, " let us not anticipate." 



II. 

At the picket fire I found half-a-dozen men, neatly dressed 
in Confederate gray, 

" Which is the ofiicer of the picket ? " I said to the Serjeant. 

" The small man — Captain Edelin." 

As he spoke Captain Edelin advanced to the foreground of the 
picture, and the ruddy firelight gave me, at a glance, an idea of 
the worthy. 

He was about five feet six inches high, with a supple figure — 



HOW I WAS ARRESTED. 337 

legs bent like those of a man who rides much — and a keen pair 
of eyes, which roved restlessly. His boots reached to the knee ; 
an enormous sword clattered against them as he walked. The 
worthy Captain Edelin was no bad representative of Captain 
D'Artagnan, the hero of Damas' " Three Guardsmen." 

When the Captain fixed his eyes upon me, he seemed to aim 
at reading me through. When he questioned me he evidently 
scrutinized my words carefully, and weighed each one. 

Such a precaution was not unreasonable. The period was 
critical, the time " dangerous." Our generals entertained well 
grounded fears that the enemy designed a flank movement on Cen- 
treville, up this very road, either to attack Johnston and Beau- 
regard's left, or to cut off Evans at Leesburg, and destroy him 
before succour could reach him. I was persohally cognizant of 
the fact that General Evans suspected such an attack, from con- 
versation with him in Leesburg, and was not surprised to find, 
as I soon did, that the road over which the enemy must advance 
to assail him was heavily picketed all along its extent in the 
direction of Fairfax. 

If this " situation " be comprehended by the reader, he will 
not fail to understand why the Captain scrutinized me closely. 
I was a stranger to him, had passed through the Confederate 
lines, and was now far to the front. If 1 was in the Federal ser- 
vice I had learned many things which would interest General 
McClellan. Spies 'took precautions in accommodating their 
dress and entire appearance to the role they were to play ; and 
why might I not be a friend of his Excellency President Lincoln, 
wearing a Confederate uniform for the convenience of travelling ? 

So Captain Edelin scanned me with great attention, his eyes 
trying to plunge to the bottom of my breast, and drag forth some 
imaginary plot against the cause. 

Being an old soldier of some months' standing, and experienc- 
ing the pangs of hunger, I rapidly came to the point. Some- 
thing like the following dialogue passed between us : 

" Captain Edelin, officer of the picket ? " I inquired. 

" Yes, sir," returned the worthy, with a look which said, as 

plainly as any words, " Who are you ? " 

22 
> 
/ 



838 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

I responded to the mute appeal : 

" I am Aide to General Stuart, and in search of his 
headquarters. I have no countersign. I left Leesburg this 
morning, and to-night lost my way. What road is that yon- 
der?" • 

" The Little Kiver turnpike." 

" The Little Eiver turnpike ? " 

" Yes." 

Then it all flashed on my bewildered brain ! I had missed 
the road which cut off the angle at Centreville, had taken a 
wrong one in the dark, and been travelling between the two turn- 
pikes towards Fairfax, until chance brought me out upon the 
Little River road, not far from " Chantilly." 

I stood for a moment looking at the Captain with stupefaction, 
and then began to laugh. 

"Good! " I said. "I should like particularly to know how 
I got here. I thought I knew the country thoroughly, and that 
this was the Warrenton road." 

*' Which way did you come? " asked the Captain, suspiciously. 

*' By the Frying Pan road. I intended to take the short cut 
to the left of Centreville." 

" You have come three or four miles out of the way." 

" I see I have — pleasant. Well, it won't take me much 
longer than daylight to arrive, I suppose, at this rate." 

The Captain seemed to relish this cheerful view of the subject, 
and the ghost of a smile wandered over his face. 

" How far is it to General Stuart's headquarters ? " I asked ; 
" and which road do I take ? " 

" That's just what I can't tell you." 

" Wei], there's no difficulty about going on, I suppose ? Here 
are my papers ; look at them." 

And I handed them to him. He read them by the firelight, 
and returning them, said : 

" That's all right, Captain, but — sorry — orders — unless you 
have the countersign " 

" The countersign ! But you are going to give me that? " 

The Captain shook his head. 



HOW I WAS ARRESTED. 339 

" Hang it, Captain, you don't mean to saj you have the heart 
to keep me here all night ? " 

" Orders must be obeyed " 

" "Why, you are not really going to take possession of me ? I 
don't mind it for myself, as I have my blankets, and you will 
give me some supper ; but there's my horse without a mouthful 
since morning." 

"That's bad; but ' 

" You don't know me ; I understand you. These papers, my 
uniform, all may be got up for the occasion ; still " 

" That's a fact ; and you know orders are orders. On duty — 
can't know anybody ; and I'd like to see the man that can catch 
Edelin asleep. My boys are just about the best trained fellows 
you ever saw, and can see in the dark." 

" I have no doubt of it. Captain." 

" Just about the best company to be found." 

' I believe you." 

This cheerful acquiescence seemed to please the worthy. 

" We're on picket here, and a mouse couldn't get through." 

" Exactly ; and I wouldn't mind staying with you the least if 
I had some supper." 

" Sorry you didn't come a little sooner ; I could have given 
you some." 

" See what I've missed ; and after travelling all day, one gets 
as hungry as a hawk. I'm afraid General Stuart's supper will 
be eat up to the last mouthful." 

This seemed to affect the Captain. He had supped; I, his 
brother soldier, had not. 

" I'll tell you what," he said, " I'll pass you through ni}'- 
picket, but you can't get on to-night. Major Wheat's pickets 
are every ten yards along the turnpike, and it would take you 
all night to work your way." 

"Cheerful." 

" The best thing is to stay here." 

" I'd much rather get on." 

" But I can't even tell you the road to turn off on. I have no 
one to send." 



340 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

As he spoke an idea struck me. 

" What regiment is yours, Captain ? " I asked. 

" Thg First Maryland — as fine a regiment — " 

" Who's your Colonel ? " 

" Bradley Johnson." 

" Well, arrest me, and take me to him." 

The Captain laughed. 

" That ivould be best," he said. " The Colonel's head-quar- 
ters are in a small house just across the field. I'll go with you." 

So we set out, the huge sword of the worthy clattering against 
his tall boots as he strode along. On the way he related at con- 
siderable length the exploits of his Maryland boys, and renewed 
his assurances of sympathy with my supperless condition — la- 
menting the disappearance of his own. 

In fact, I may say with modest pride that I had conquered the 
worthy captain. Eloquence had reaped its reward — had had 
its " perfect work." From frigid, the Captain had become luke- 
warm ; from lukewarm, quite a pleasant glow had diffused itself 
through his conversatidn. Then his accents had become even 
friendly : he had offered me a part of his Barmecide supper, and 
proposed to pass me through his picket. 

I remember very well his short figure as it moved beside me ; 
his gasconades a la D'Artagnan ; and his huge sabre, bobbing as 
he walked. The end of it trailed upon the ground — so short 
was the Captain's stature, so mighty the length of his weapon. 

He strode on rapidly, talking away ; and we soon approached 
a small house in the middle of the large field, through whose 
window a light shone. 

In this house Colonel Bradley Johnson had established his 
headquarters. 



III. 

The Captain knocked ; was bidden to enter, and went in — I 
following. 

" A prisoner, Colonel," said the Captain- 



HOW I WAS ARRESTED. 341 

" Ah! " said Colonel Bradley Johnson, who was lying on his 
camp bed. 

" At my own request, Colonel." 

And pulling off one of a huge pair of gauntlets, I stuck a 
paper at him. 

Colonel Johnson — than whom no braver soldier or more de- 
lightful companion exists — glanced at the document, then at me, 
and made me a bow. 

" All right. From Leesburg, Captain ? " 

" Yes, sir." 

" Any news ? " 

" None at all. All quiet." 

" Are you going to General Stuart's headquarters to-night? " 

" If I can find the road." 

" I really don't know it. I know where it is, but " 

" It will be necessary to send me, I suppose, Colonel ? " 

" Necessary ? " 

"I am a prisoner, you know, and I think General Stuart is in 
command of the outpost." 

The Colonel began to laugh. 

" That's true," he said. 

And turning round, he uttered the word — 

" Courier." 

Now " courier " was evidently the designation of a gentleman 
who at that moment was stretching himself luxuriously in one 
corner of the room, drawing over his head a large white blanket, 
with the air of a man who has finished his day's work, and is 
about to retire to peaceful and virtuous slumber. 

From several slight indications, it was obvious that the courier 
had just returned after carrying a dispatch, and that he experi- 
enced to its fullest extent the grateful sensation of having per- 
formed all the duty that could be expected of him, and regarded 
himself as legally and equitably entitled to at least six hours 
sleep, in the fond embrace of his white blanket. 

Alas for the mutability of mundane things! — the unstable 
character of all human calculations ! 

Even as he dismounted, and took off his saddle for the night. 



342 "WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

Fate, in the person of the present writer, was on his track. As 
he lay down, and wrapped himself luxuriously in that white 
blanket, drawing a long breath, and extending his limbs with 
Epicurean languor, the aforesaid Fate tapped him on the shoulder, 
and bade him rise. 

"CouTier!" 

And the head rose suddenly. 

" Saddle up, and go with this gentleman to General Stuart's 
headquarters." 

A deep sigh — almost a groan — a slowly rising figure rolling 
up a white blanket, and this most unfortunate of couriers dis- 
appeared, no doubt maligning the whole generation of wander- 
ing aides-de-camp, and wishing that they had never been born. 

With a friendly good-night to Colonel Johnson, whose hard 
work in the field since that time has made his name familiar to 
every one, and honourable to his State, I returned in company 
with Edelin to the picket fire. 

The courier disconsolately followed. 

On the way I had further talk with Captain Edelin, and I' 
found him a jovial companion. 

When I left him, we shook hands, and that is the first time 
and the last time I ever saw " Captain Edelin of the old First 
Maryland Eegiment." It was Monsieur D'Artagnan come to 
life, as I have said ; and I remembered very well the figure of 
the Captain when I read that paragraph announcing his death. 

He was a Baltimorean, and I have heard that his company was 
made up in the following manner : 

When the disturbances took place in Baltimore, in April, 
1861, the leaders of thci Southern party busied themselves in 
organizing the crowds into something like a military body, and 
for that purpose divided them into companies, aligning them 
where they stood. 

A company of about one hundred men was thus formed, and 
the person who had counted it off said : 

" Who will command this company ? " 

Two men stepped forward. 

" I can drill them," said the first. 



HOW I WAS ARRESTED. 343 

" I have been through the Mexican war. I can fight them," 
said the other. 

The command was given to the latter, and this was Edelin. 
When the war commenced, he marched his company out, and 
joined the Southern army. 

Poor Edelin ! He did not know he was arresting his historian 
that night on the outpost ! 



IV. 

A few words will terminate my account of " How I was ar- 
rested." I have spoken of the courier supplied me by Colonel 
Johnson, and this worthy certainly turned out the most remark- 
able of guides. After leaving Captain Edelin's picket, I pro- 
ceeded along the turnpike toward Germantown — continuing thus 
to follow, as I have said, the very road I had travelled over 
when the first picket stopped me at the mouth of the " Frying 
Pan." 

I had gone round two sides of a triangle and was quietly ad- 
vancing as I might have done over the same route ! 

There was this disagreeable difference, however, that the night 
was now dark ; that the pickets were numerous and on the alert ; 
that neither I nor the courier knew the precise point to turn off; 
and that Wheat's " Tigers," then on picket, had an eccentric idea 
that everybody stirring late at night, at such a time, was a 
Yankee^ and to be fired upon instantly. This had occurred more 
than once — they had shot at couriers — and as they had no fires 
you never knew when a picket was near. 

This was interesting, but not agreeable. To have a friendly 
"Tiger " regret the mistake and be sorry for killing you is some- 
thing, but not affecting seriously the general result. 

Such appeared to be the view taken by my friend the courier. 
He was in a tremendous state of excitement. I was not com- 
posed myself; but my disquiet was connected with the idea of 
supper, which I feared would be over. A day's fasting had 
made me ravenous, and I hurried my driver constantly. 



344 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

This proceeding filled my friend the courier with dire fore- 
bodings. He several times rode back from his place some fifty 
yards in advance to beg me pathetically to drive slower — he 
could not hear the challenge if I drove so fast, and " they would 
shoot ! " This view I treated with scorn, and the result was, 
that my 'guide was nearly beside himself with terror. 

He besought me to be prudent ; but as his idea of prudence 
was to walk slowly along, listening with outstretched neck and 
eager ears for the challenge of the pickets from the shadow of 
the huge trees, and to shout out the countersign immediately 
upon being halted, with a stentorian voice which could be heard 
half a mile ; as his further views connected with the proprieties 
of the occasion seemed to impel him to hold long and confiden- 
tial conversations with the " Tigers," to the effect that he and I 
were, in the fullest sense of the term, "all right; " that I was 
Aide to General Stuart ; that I had come that day from Leesburg; 
that I had lost my way ; that I was not a suspicious character ; 
that he was in charge of me — as this method of proceeding, I say, 
seemed to constitute the prudence which he urged upon me so 
eloquently, I treated his remonstrances and arguments with rude 
and hungry disregard. 

Instead of waiting quietly while he palavered with the senti- 
nels, I broke the dialogue by the rough and impolite words to 
the sentinel : 

"Do you know the road which leads in to General Stuart's 
headquarters ? " 

" No, sir." 

" Drive on ! " 

And again the vehicle rolled merrily along, producing a terri- 
ble rattle as it went, and filling with dismay the affrighted cou- 
rier, who, I think, gave himself up for lost. 

But I am dwelling at too great length upon my " guide, philo- 
sopher, and friend," the courier, and these subsequent details of 
my journey. I have told how I was arrested — a few words will 
end my sketch. 

We soon reached the " Ox Hill Eoad," and here some infor- 
mation was obtained. 



HOW I WAS ARRESTED. 345 

A friendly and intelligent "Tiger," with a strong Irish brogue, 
declared that this was the route, and I proceeded over a horrible 
road into the woods. 

A mile brought me to camp fires and troops asleep — no an- 
swer greeted my shout, and, getting out of the carriage, I went 
through a sort of abattis of felled trees, and stirred up a sleeper 
wrapped to the nose in his blanket, 

" Which is the road to General Stuart's headquarters?" I asked. 

" Don't know, sir." 

And the head disappeared under the blanket. 

" What regiment is this ? " 

The nose re-appeared. 

" Tigers." 

Then the blanket was wrapped around the peaceful Tiger^ 
who almost instantly began to snore. 

A little further the road forked, and I took that one which 
led toward a glimmering light. That light reached, my troubles 
ended. It was the headquarters of Major Wheat, who poured 
out his brave blood, in June, 1862, on the ChickahomiUy, and I 
speedily received full directions. Ere long I reached Mellen's, 
my destination, in time for supper, as well as a hearty welcome 
from the best of friends and generals. 

■ So ends my story, gentle reader. It cannot be called a " thrill- 
ing narrative," but is true, which is something after all in these 
" costermonger times," 

At least, this is precisely " How I was arrested." 



III. 
MOSBY'S RAID INTO FAIRFAX. 



I. 

Among the daring partisans of the war, few have rendered such 
valuable services to the cause as Captain John S. Mosby. 

His exploits would furnish material for a volume which would 
resemble rather a romance than a true statement of actual occur- 
rences. He has been the chief actor in so many raids, encoun- 
ters, and adventures, that his memoirs, if he committed them to 
paper, would be regarded as the efforts of fancy. Fortunately, 
there is very little fancy about " official reports," which deal with 
naked facts and figures, and those reports of these occurrences 
are on record. 

It is only necessary to glance at the Captain to understand 
that he was cut out for a partisan leader. His figure is slight, 
muscular, supple, and vigorous ; his eye is keen, penetrating, 
ever on the alert ; he wears his sabre and pistol with the air of 
a man who sleeps with them buckled around his waist ; and 
handles them habituall}^, almost unconsciously. The Captain is 
a determined man in a charge, dangerous on a scout, hard to 
outwit, and prone to " turn up " suddenly where he is least 
expected, and bang away with pistol and carbine. 

His knowledge of the enemy's character is extensive and pro- 
found ; his devices to deceive them are rarely unsuccessful. 
Take in proof of this a trifling occurrence some time since, in the 
neighbourhood of Warrenton. The enemy's cavalry, in strong 
force, occupied a position in front of the command which Captain 



MOSBY's raid into FAIRFAX. 347 

Mosby accompanied. Neither side had advanced, and, in the 
lull which took place, the Captain performed the following 
amusing little comedy : taking eight or ten men, he deployed 
them as skirmishers in front of an entire brigade of the enemy, 
and at a given signal from him, they advanced steadily, firing 
their carbines as they did so, without further intermission than 
the time necessarily spent in reloading. This manoeuvre was 
executed with such spirit and apparent design to attack in force 
that the enemy were completely taken in. As the sharpshooters 
advanced, led on gallantly by the Captain, who galloped about 
cheering his imaginary squadrons, the enemy were seized with a 
sudden panic, wavered, and gave way, thus presenting the comic 
spectacle of an entire brigade retiring before a party of eight or 
ten sharpshooters. 

This is only one of a thousand affairs in which Captain Mosby 
has figured, proving himself possessed of the genius of a true 
partisan. If I could here relate these adventurous occurrences, 
the reader would soon comprehend how steady the Captain's 
nerve is, how ready his resources in an emergency, and how 
daring his conception and execution. For the present, I must 
content myself with one recent adventure, prefacing it with a 
statement which will probably throw some light upon the 
motives of the chief actor, and the feelings which impelled him 
to undertake the expedition. 

In the summer of 1862, Captain Mosby was sent from Hano- 
ver Court-House on a mission to General Jackson, who was then 
on the Upper Eapidan. He was the bearer of an oral communi- 
cation, and as the route was dangerous, had no papers about him 
except a brief note to serve as a voucher for his identity and 
reliability. With this note, the Captain proceeded on his jour- 
ney, and stopping at Beaver Dam Station on the Virginia Cen- 
ral Eailroad, to rest and feed his horse, was, while quietly sitting 
on the platform at the depot, surprised and bagged by a detach- 
ment of the enemy's cavalry. 

Now, to be caught thus napping, in an unguarded moment, was 
gall and wormwood to the brave Captain. He had deceived and 
outwitted the enemy so often, and had escaped from their clutches 



348 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

SO regularly up to that time, that to find himself surprised thus 
filled him with internal rage. From that moment his sentiments 
toward them increased in intensity. They had been all along 
decidedly unfriendly — they were now bitter. They took him 
away with them, searched him, appropriated his credentials, pub- 
lished them as an item of interest in the Northern papers, and 
immured the partisan in the Old Capitol. 

In due course of time he was exchanged. He returned with a 
handsome new satchel and an increased affection for his friends 
across the way. He laughed at his misfortunes, but set down 
the account to the credit of the enemy, to be settled at a more 
convenient opportunity. 

Since that time the Captain has been regularly engaged in 
squaring his account. He has gone to work with a thorough air 
of business. Under an energy and perseverance so systematic 
and undeviating the account has been gradually reduced, item 
by item. 

On the night of Sunday, the eighth of March, 1863, it may 
fairly be considered that the account was discharged. To come 
to the narrative of the event alluded to, and which it is the 
design of this paper to describe : 

Previous to the eighth of March Captain Mosby had put 
himself to much trouble to discover the strength and positions of 
the enemy in Fairfax county, with the design of making a raid 
in that direction, if circumstances permitted. The information 
brought to him was as follows : On the Little Eiver turnpike at 
Germantown, a mile or two distant from Fairfax, were three 
regiments of the enemy's cavalry, commanded by Colonel 
Wyndham, Acting Brigadier-General, with his headquarters at 
the Court-House. Within a few hundred yards of the town 
were two infantry regiments. In the vicinity of i'airfax Station, 
about two miles off, an infantry brigade was encamped. And 
at Centreville there was another infantry brigade, with cavalry 
and artillery. " 

Thus the way to Fairfax Court-House, the point which the 
Captain desired to reach, seemed completely blocked up with 
troops of all arms — infantry, artillery, and cavalry. If he 



MOSBY'S raid into FAIRFAX. 349 

attempted to approach by the Little Kiver turnpike, Colonel 
Wyndham's troopers would meet him full in front. If he tried 
the route by the Warrenton turnpike, a brigade of infantry, 
with cavalry to pursue and artillery to thunder at him, was first 
to be defeated. If he glided in along the railroad, the brigade at 
Fairfax Station was in his track. 

The " situation" would have appeared desperate to almost any 
one, however adventurous, but danger and adventure had attrac- 
tions for Captain Mosby. If the peril was great and the pro- 
bability of success slender, all the greater would be the glory if 
he succeeded. And the temptation was great. At Fairfax 
Court-House, the general headquarters of that portion of the 
army, Brigadier-General Stoughton and other officers of high 
rank were then known to be, and if these could be captured, 
great would be his triumph. 

In spite of the enormous obstacles which presented thetnselves 
in his path, Captain Mosby determined to undertake no less an 
enterprise than entering the town, seizing the officers in their 
beds, destroying the huge quantities of public stores, and bearing 
off his prisoners in triumph. 



n. 

The night of Sunday, March 8th, was chosen as favorable to 
the expedition. The weather was terrible — the night as dark as 
pitch — and it was raining steadily. With a detachment of 
twenty-nine men Captain Mosby set out on his raid. 

He made his approach from the direction of Aldie. Proceed- 
ing down the Little River turnpike, the main route from the 
Court-House to the mountains, he reached a point within about 
three miles of Chantilly. Here, turning to the right, he crossed 
the Frying Pan road about half-way between Centreville and the 
turnpike, keeping in the woods, and leaving Centreville well to 
the right. He was now advancing in the triangle which is made 
by the Little River and \Yarreuton turnpikes and the Frying 
Pan road. Those who are familiar with the country there will 



350 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

easily understand the object of this proceeding. By thus cutting 
through the triangle, Captain Mosby avoided all pickets, scout- 
ing parties, and the enemy generally, who would only keep a look- 
out for intruders on the main roads. 

Advancing in this manner through the woods, pierced with 
devious and uncertain paths only, which the dense darkness 
scarcely enabled them to follow, the partisan and his little band 
finally struck into the Warrenton road, between Centreville and 
Fairfax, at a point about midway between the two places. One 
danger had thus been successfully avoided — a challenge from 
parties of cavalry on the Little River road, or discovery by the 
force posted at Centreville. That place was now in their rear — 
they had " snaked " around it and its warders ; but the perils of 
the enterprise had scarcely commenced. Fairfax Court-House 
was still about four miles distant, and it was girdled with cavalry 
and infantry. Every approach was guarded, and the attempt to 
enter the place seemed desperate, but the Captain determined to 
essay it. 

Advancing resolutely, he came within a mile and a half of the 
place, when he found the way barred by a heavy force. Direct- 
ly in his path were the infantry camps of which he had been noti- 
fied, and all advance was checked in that direction. The Captain 
did not waver in his purpose, however. Making a detour to the 
right, and leaving the enemy's camp far to his left, he struck into 
the road leading from Fairfax southward to the railroad. 

This avenue was guarded like the rest, but by a picket only ; 
and the Captain knew thoroughly how to deal with these. Be- 
fore the sleepy and unsuspicious pickets were aware of their dan- 
ger, they found pistols presented at their heads, with the option 
of surrender or death presented to them, Tliey surrendered 
immediately, were taken in charge, and without further ceremony 
Captain Mosby and his band entered the town. 

From that moment the utmost silence, energy, and rapidity of 
action were requisite. The Captain had designed reaching the 
Court-House at midnight, but had been delayed two hours by 
mistaking his road in the pitch darkness. It was now two o'clock 
in the morning ; and an hour and a half, at the very utmost, was 



, MOSBY'S raid into FAIRFAX. 351 

left him to finish his business and escape before daylight. If 
morning found him anywhere in that vicinity he knew that his 
retreat would be cut off, and the whole party killed or captured 
— and this would have spoiled the whole affair. He accordingl}'- 
made his -dispositions rapidly, enjoined complete silence, and set 
to work in earnest. The small band was divided into detach- 
ments, with special duties assigned to each. Two or three of 
these detachments were sent to the public stables which the fine 
horses of the General and his staff officers occupied, with instruc- 
tions to carry them off without noise. Another party was sent to 
Colonel Wyndham's headquarters to take him prisoner. Another 
to Colonel Johnson's, with similar orders. 

Taking six men with him, Captain Mosby, who proceeded 
upon sure information, went straight to the headquarters of 
Brigadier-General Stoughton. 

The Captain entered his chamber without much ceremony, and 
found him asleep in bed. 

Making his way toward the bed, in the dark, the partisan 
shook him suddenly by the shoulder. 

"What is that?" growled the General. 

" Get up quick, I want you," responded the Captain. 

"Do you know who I am? " cried the Brigadier, sitting up in 
bed, with a scowl. " I will have you arrested, sir ! " 

" Do you know who /am ? " retorted the Captain, shortly. 

"Who are you? " 

" Did you ever hear of Mosby ? " 

" Yes ! Tell me, have you caught the rascal!" 

" No, but he has caught you ! " 

And the Captain chuckled. 

" What does all this mean, sir ! " cried the furious offi- 
cer. 

"It means, sir," the Captain replied, " that Stuart's cavalry are 
in possession of this place, and you are my prisoner. Get up and 
come along, or you are a dead man 1 " 

Bitter as was this order, the General was compelled to obey, 
and the partisan mounted him, and placed him under guard. 
His staff and escort were captured without difficulty, but two of 



352 WEARING OF THE GRAY. • ^ 

the former, owing to the darkness and confusion, subsequently 
made their escape. 

Meanwhile the other detachments were at work. They enter- 
ed the stables, and led out fifty-eight very fine horses, with their 
accouti:ements, all belonging to officers, and took a number of 
prisoners. Hundreds of horses were left, for fear of encumbering 
the retreat. * 

The other parties were less successful. Colonel Wyndham had 
gone down to Washington on the preceding day ; but his A. A. 
General and Aide-de-camp were made prisoners. Colonel Johnson 
having received notice of the presence of the party, succeeded in 
making his escape. 

It was now about half past three in the morning, and it be- 
hoved Captain Mosby, unless he relished being killed or cap- 
tured, to effect his retreat. Time was barely left him to get out 
of the lines of the enemy before daylight, and none was to be 
lost. 

He had intended to destroy the valuable quartermaster, com- 
missary, and sutler's stores in the place, but these were found to 
be in the houses, which it would have been necessary to burn ; 
and even had the proceeding been advisable, time was wanting. 
The band was encumbered by three times as many horses and 
prisoners as it numbered men, and day was approaching. The 
captain accordingly made his dispositions rapidly for retiring. 

The prisoners, thirty-five in number, were as follows : 

Brig.-Gen. E. H. Stoughton. 

Baron K. "Wordener, an Austrian, and Aide-de-camp to Col. 
Wyndham. 

Capt. A. Barker, 5th New York Cavalry. 

Col. Wyndham's A. A. General. 

Thirty prisoners, chiefly of the 18th Pennsylvania and 1st 
Ohio Ckvalry, and the telegraph operator at the place. 

These were placed upon the captured horses, and the band set 
out in silence on their return. 

Captain Mosby took the same road which had conducted him 
into the Cou!t-H use : that which led to Fairfax Station. But 
this was only to deceive the enemy as to his line of retreat, if 



MOSBY'S raid into FAIRFAX. 853 

• 

thej attempted pursuit. He soon turned off, and pursued the 
same road wliicli lie had followed in advancing, coming out on 
the Warrenton turnpike, about a mile and a half from the 
town. This time, finding no guards on the main road, he con- 
tinued to follow the turnpike until he came to the belt of woods 
which crosses the road about half a mile from Centreville. At 
this point of the march, one of the prisoners. Captain Barker, 
no doubt counting on aid from the garrison, made a desperate 
effort to effect his escape. He broke from his guards, dashed 
out of the ranks, and tried hard to reach the fort. He was 
stopped, however, by a shot from one of the party, and returned 
again, yielding himself a prisoner. 

Again turning to the right, the Captain proceeded on his way, 
passing directly beneath the frowning fortifications. He passed 
so near them that he distinctly saw the bristling muzzles of the 
cannon in the embrasures, and was challenged by the sentinel 
on the redoubt. Making no reply he pushed on rapidly, for the 
day was dawning, and no time was to be lost ; passed within a 
hundred yards of the infantry pickets without molestation, swam 
Cub Run, and again came out on the Warrenton turnpike at 
Groveton. 

He had passed through all his enemies, flanked Centreville, 
was on the open road to the South : he was safe ! 



23 



IV. 
MY FRIEND LIEUTENANT BUMPO. 



Yesterday I received a letter from my friend Lieutenant N. 
Bumpo, Artillery Corps, P. A. C. S. To-day I have been 
thinking of the career of this young gentleman from the outset 
of the war. 

" Eepresentative men" are profitable subjects for reflection. 
They embody in their single persons, the characteristics of whole 
classes. 

Bumpo is a representative man. 

He represents the Virginia youth who would not stay at home, 
in spite of every attempt to induce him to do so ; who, shoul- 
dering his musket, marched away to the wars ; who has put his 
life upon the hazard of the die a thousand times, and intends to 
go on doing so to the end. 

I propose to draw an outline of Lieutenant Bumpo. The 
sketch shall be accurate ; so accurate that he will be handed 
down to future generations — even as he lived and moved during 
the years of the great revolution. His grandchildren shall thus 
know all about their at present prospective grandpa- -and all his 
descendants shall honour him. His portrait over the mantel- 
piece shall be admiringly indicated, uno digiio. The antique cut 
of his uniform shall excite laughter. Bumpo will live in every 
heart and memory ! 

He is now seventeen and a half. Tall for his age ; gay, smil- 
ing; fond of smoking, laughing, and "fun" generally. I have 
said that he is an officer of the Artillery Corps, at present — but 
he has been in the infantry and the cavalry. 



MY FRIEND LIEUTENANT BUMPO. 355 

He was born in the Yallej of Virginia, and spent his youth 
in warring on partridges. His aim thus early became unerring. 
When the war broke out it found him a boy of some fifteen and 
a half — loving all mankind, except the sons of the famous "Pil- 
grim Fathers." Upon this subject Bumpo absorbed the views 
of his ancestors. 

April, 1861, arrived duly. Bumpo was in the ranks with a 
rifle. Much remonstrance and entreaty saluted this proceeding, 
but Private Bumpo, of the '' Eifles," remained obstinate. 

" Young ? " Why he was FIFTEEIN' ! 

"The seed corn should be kept?" But suppose there was 
no Southern soil to plant it in ? 

" A mere boy ? " — Boy ! ! ! 

And Private Bumpo stalked off with his rifle on his shoulder 
— outraged as Coriolanus, who, after having " fluttered tbeVolsces 
in Corioli," was greeted with the same opprobrious epithet. 

Obstinacy is not a praiseworthy sentiment in youth, but I 
think that young Bumpo was right. He would have died of 
chagrin at home, with his comrades in the service ; or his pride 
and spirit of haute noblesse would have all departed. It was 
better to run the risk of being killed. 

So Bumpo marched. 

He marched to Harper's Ferry — and thenceforth " Forward — 
march ! " was the motto of his youthful existence. 

Hungry ? — " Forward, march ! " 

Cold ? — " Forward, inarch ! " 

Tired? — "Forward, march ! " 

Bumpo continued thenceforth to march. When not marching 
he was fighting. 

The officer who commanded his brigade was a certain Colonel 
Jackson, afterwards known popularly as " Old Stonewall." This 
officer could not bear Yankees, and this tallied exactly with 
Private Bumpo's views. He deeply sympathized with the sen- 
timents of his illustrious leader, and loaded and fired with 
astonishing rapidity and animation. At " Falling Water " he 
" fought and fell back." Thereafter he marched back and forth, 
and was on the Potomac often. A sliofht historic anecdote re- 



353 wp:aring of the gray. 

mains of this period in the Bumpo Vinnals. He was on picket 
near the river bank with a friend of ours, when suddenly an old 
woman, of hag-like, Macbeth-witch appearance, came in view on 
the opposite bank, gesticulating violently to hidden observers 
that yonder were the Rebels ! The friend of our youth, in a 
jocose spirit, fired, as he said, ahead of the old hag to frighten 
her — or behind, to put a ball through her flying skirts — but 
Bumpo upbraided him with his bloody real intentions. We re- 
gret to say, however, that he afterwards retired behind a tree 
and indulged in smothered laughter as the Macbeth-witch disap- 
peared with floating robes toward her den. 

From the Valley, Private Bumpo proceeded rapidly to Ma- 
nassas, where he took part in the thickest of the fight, and was 
bruised by a fragment of shell. Here he killed his first man. 
His cousin, Carey , fell at his side, and Bumpo saw the sol- 
dier who shot him, not fifty yards off He levelled his rifle, and 
put a ball through his breast. He went down, and Bumpo says 
with laughter, "I killed him !" 

He was starved like all of us at Manassas, and returning to 
the Valley continued to have short rations. He fought through 
all the great campaigns there, and wore out many pairs of shoes 
in the ranks of the Foot Cavalry. At Kernstown he had just 
fired his gun, and as he exclaimed "By Greorge ! I got him that 
time! " received a ball which tore his coat-sleeve to pieces, and 
numbed his wrist considerably. He regards himself as fortunate, 
however, and says Kernstown w\as as hot as any fight he has 
seen. Thereafter, more marching. He had been back to the 
Fairfax country, where I saw him two or three times — and now 
traversed the Valley again. The Romney march, lie says, was 
a hard one ; no blankets, no rations, no fire, but a plenty of 
snow. I saw him on his return at "Winchester, and compared 
notes. The weather was bad, but Bumpo's spirits good. He 
had held on to his musket, remaining a high private in the rear 
rank. 

Some of these days he will tell his grandchildren, if he lives, 
all about the days when he followed Commissary Banks about, 
and revelled in the contents of his wagons. Altogether they 



MY FRIEND LIEUTENANT BUMPO. 357 

had a jovial time, ia spite of snow and hunger and weari- 
ness. 

The days hurried on, and Port Republic was fought. Private 
Burapo continued to carry his musket about. He had now seen 
a good deal of Virginia — knew the Yalley by heart — was ac- 
quainted with the very trees and wayside stones upon the high- 
ways. Riding with me since, he has recalled many tender 
memories of these objects. Under that tree there, he lay down 
to rest in the shade on a hot July day. On that stone he sat, 
overcome with weariness, one afternoon of snowy December. 
There's the road we fell back on ! Yonder is the hollow where 
we advanced ! Consequent conclusion on the part of Private 
Burapo that he has graduated in the geography of that portion 
of his native State. 

The lowland invited him to visit its sandy roads, after Cross 
Keys. The stones of the Valley were exchanged for the swampy 
soil of the Chickahominy. 

On the morning of the battle of Cold Harbour, I saw a bri- 
gade in the pine woods as I passed, and inquiring what one it 
was, found it was Bumpo's. I found the brave youth in charm- 
ing spirits as ever; and surrounded by his good comrades, lying 
on the pine-tags, he told me many things in brief words. 

Bumpo, like his brave companions, had the air of the true 
soldier — cheerful, prone to jest, and ready for the fray. He was 
clad in gray, or rather brown, for the sun had scorched his good 
old uniform to a dingy hue — and the bright eyes of the young 
gentleman looked at you from benpath an old drab-coloured hat. 
Bumpo, I think, had an irrational admiration for that hat, and, I 
remember, liked his black " Yankee " haversack. I had a fine 
new, shiny one which I had purchased, at only fifteen times its 
original cost, from a magnanimous shop-keej)er of Richmond ; 
and this I ofiered to Bumpo. But he refused it — clinging to his 
plainer and better one, but slenderly stocked with crackers. 

Suddenly the drum rolled. Burapo shouldered his musket. 

" Fall in ! " 

And the brigade was on its march again. 

Poor Colonel A ! I pressed your hand that day, for " the 



358 WEAEING OF THE GRAY. 

first time and the last time ! " Your face was kind and smiling 
as you told me you would always be glad to see me at your 
camp — but four hours afterwards it was cold in death. The fatal 
ball bad pierced your breast, and your heart's blood dyed that 
hard-fought field with its crimson. 

Such are the experiences of a soldier. 

The battle was already raging — the brigade rapidly ap- 
proached. They arrived in time — the order passed along the 
line — the corps of Greneral Jackson went in with colours flying. 

" Yesterday was the most terrific fire of musketry I ever 
heard," 

Such were the words of General Jackson an hour past mid- 
night. 

On that succeeding morning, I set out to find Corporal Bumpo 
— for to this rank he had been promoted. I met General Jack- 
son on the way, his men cheering the hero, and ascertaining from 
him the whereabouts of the brigade, proceeded thither. 

Corporal Bumpo smiling and hungry — a cheerful sight. He 
was occupied in stocking his old haversack with biscuits — excel- 
lent ones. They had been sent to an ofiicer of the command, 
but he was killed ; and his comrades divided them. Corporal 
Bumpo had charged, with his company, at sundown, near the 
enemy's battery, on their extreme right. A piece of shell had 
bruised him, and a ball cut a breast button of his coat in two. 
The under side remained, with the name of the manufacturer 
still legibly stamped thereon. Magnanimous foes ! They never 
interfere with "business." That button was an "advertising 
medium" — and even in the heat of battle they respected it. 

Corporal Bumpo ought to have preserved that jacket as a 
memorial of other days, for the honours of age. But its faded 
appearance caused him to throw it away, part company with a 
good old friend. What matter if it was discoloured, Bumpo ? 
It had sheltered you for many months. You had lain down in 
it on the pine-tags of the valley and the lowlands, in the days of 
July, and the nights of January ; on the grass and in the snow ; 
with a gay heart or a sad one, beating under it, I do not recog- 
nise you, Corporal, in this wanton act — for do not all the mem- 



MY FRIEND LIEUTENANT BUMPO. 359 

bers of the family adhere to old friends? The jacket may have 
been sun-embrowned, but so is the face of an old comrade. 
Lastly, it was not more brown than that historic coat which the 
immortal Jackson wore — whereof the buttons have been taken 
off by fairy hands instead of bullets. 

After Cold Harbour, Corporal Bumpo began marching again 
as usual. Tramping through the Chickahominy low-grounds, 
he came with his company to Malvern Hill, and was treated 
once more to that symphony — an old tune now — the roar of can- 
non. The swamp air had made him deadly sick — him, the 
mountain born— and, he says, he could scarcely stand up, and 
was about to get into an ambulance. But well men were doing 
so, and the soul of Bumpo revolted from the deed. He gripped 
his musket with obstinate clutch, and stayed where he was — 
shooting as often as possible. We chatted about the battle when 
I rode to see him, in front of the gunboats, in Charles City ; and, 
though " poorly," the Corporal was gay and smiling. He had 
got something to eat, and his spirits had consequently risen. 

" Fall in ! " came as we were talking, and Bumpo marched. 

Soon thereafter, I met the Corporal in the city of Eichmond, 
whither he had come on leave. I was passing through the 
Capitol Square, when a friendly voice hailed me, and behold ! 
up hastened Bumpo ! He was jacketless, but gay ; possessor of 
a single shirt, but superior to all the weaknesses of an absurd 
civilization. We went to dine with some elegant lady friends, 
and I offered the Corporal a black coat. He tried it on, survey- 
ed himself in the glass, and, taking it off, said, with cheerful 
naivete^ that he believed he would " go so." I applauded this 
soldierly decision, and I know the fair dames liked the young 
soldier all the better for it. I think they regarded his military 
"undress "as more becoming than the finest broadcloth. The 
balls of the enemy had respected that costume, and the lovely 
girls, with the brave, true hearts, seemed to think that they ought 
to, too. 

I linger too long in these by-ways of the Corporeal biography, 
but rememb«" that I write for the gay youth's grandchildren. 
They will not listen coldly to these little familiar details. 



360 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

From Eichmond the Corporal marched northward again. 
This time he was destined to traverse new regions. The Eapi- 
dan invited him, and he proceeded thither, and, as usual, got into 
a battle immediately. He says the enemy pressed hard at Cedar 
mountain, but when Jackson appeared in front, they broke and 
fled. The Corporal followed, and marched after them through 
Culpeper; through the Eappahannock too; and to Manassas. 
A hard fight there ; two hard fights ; and then with swollen and 
bleeding feet, Bumpo succumbed to fate, and sought that haven 
of rest for the weary soldier — a wagon not until he had his sur- 
geon's certificate, however ; and with this in his pocket, the Cor- 
poral went home to rest a while. 

I think this tremendous tramp from Winchester to Manassas, 
by way of Eichmond, caused Corporal Bumpo to reflect. His 
feet were swollen, and his mind absorbed. He determined to 
try the cavalry. Succeeding, with difficulty, in procuring a 
transfer, he entered a company of the Cavalry Division under 
Major-General Stuart, whose dashing habits suited him ; and no 
sooner had he done so than his habitual luck attended him. On 
the second day he was in a very pretty little charge near Aldie. 
The Corporal — now private again — got ahead of his companions, 
captured a good horse, and supplied himself, without cost to the 
Confederate States, with a light, sharp, well" balanced sabre. 
Chancing to be in his vicinity I can testify to the gay ardour 
with which the ex-Corporal went after his old adversaries, no 
longer on foot, and even faster than at the familiar " double 
quick." 

His captured horse was a good one ; his sabre excellent. It 
has drawn blood, as the following historic anecdote will show. 
The ex-Corporal was travelling through Culpeper with two 
mounted servants. He and his retinue were hungry ; they could 
purchase no food whatever. At every house short supplies — 
none to be vended — very sorry, but could not furnish dinner. 
The hour for that meal passed. Supper-time came. At many 
houses supper was demanded, with like unsuccess. Then the 
soul of Bumpo grew enraged — hunger rendered hi^ lawless, in- 
exorable. He saw a pig on the road by a large and fine looking 



MY FRIEND LIEUTENANT BUMPO. 361 

bouse ; poor people living beside the road disclaimed ownership, 
and declined selling. Impressment was necessary — and Bumpo, 
with a smgle blow of his sabre, slaughtered the unoffending 
shoat. Eeplacing his sword with dignity in its scabbard, he 
indicated the prostrate animal with military brevity of point, and 
rode on, apparently in deep reflection. The retinue followed 
with a pig which they had found recently killed, upon the" road — 
and bivouacking for the night in the next woods he reached, with 
the aid of some bread in his servants' haversacks, Bumpo made 
an excellent supper. 

This incident he related to me with immoral exultation. It is 
known in the family as the " Engagement in Culpeper." 

Bumpo was greatly pleased with the cavalry, and learned fast. 
He displayed an unerring instinct for discovering fields of new 
corn for horse feed ; was a great hand at fence rails for the 
bivouac fire ; and indulged in other improper proceedings which 
indicated the old soldier, and free ranger of the fields and forests. 
The " fortunes of war " gave me frequent opportunities of enjoy- 
ing the society of Bumpo at this time. We rode together many 
scores of miles, with Augustus Cassar, a coloured friend, behind ; 
and lived the merriest life imaginable. 

Worthy Lieutenant of the C. S. Artillery, do you ever recall 
those sunshiny days ? Don't you remember how we laughed 
and jested as we rode ; how we talked the long hours away so 
often ; and related to each other a thousand stories ? How we 
bivouacked by night, and halted to rest b}'- day, making excel- 
lent fires, and once kindling the dry leaves into a conflagration 
which we thought would bring over the enemy ? Have you 
forgotten that pleasant little mansion in the woods, where a 
blazing fire and real coffee awaited us — where I purchased 
"Consuelo," and you, "The Monk's Revenge?" You were 
Bumpo " by looks " and Bumpo " by character " that day, my 
friend, for you feasted as though a famine were at hand ! Then 
the supper at Rudishill's, and the breakfast at Siegel's old head- 
quarters. The march by night, and the apparition of Rednose, 
emissary of Bluebaker ! Those days were rather gay — in spite 
of wind and snow — were they not, Lieutenant Bumpo ? You 



362 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

live easier now, perhaps, but when do you see tableaux like 
Eednose in your journey ? Eednose, superior to the Thane of 
Cawdor, inasmuch as he was " not afeared ! " 

The Lieutenant will have to explain the above mysterious 
allusion to his grand-,children. I think he will laugh as he does 
so, and "that a small chirping chorus will join in. 

The young soldier soon left the cavalry. He went to see a 
kinsman, was elected lieutenant of artillery in a batteiy which 
he had never seen, and on report of his merits only, and returned 
with his certificate of election in his pocket. The old luck 
attended him. In a fortnight or so he was in the battle of 
Fredericksburg, where he kept up a thundering fire upon the 
enemy — roaring at them all day with the utmost glee ; and now 
he has gone with his battery, in command of a section, with 
plenty of brave cannoneers to work the pieces, to the low 
grounds of North Carolina. 

Such is the career of Bumpo, a brave and kindly youth, which 
the letter received yesterday made me ponder upon. 

Some portions of the epistle are characteristic : 

" Last night I killed a shoat which kept eating my corn ; and 
made our two Toms scald it and cut it up, and this morning we 
had a piece of it for breakfost. We call the other Tom ' Long 
Tom,' and Thomas ' Augustus Caesar ! ' " 

Bumpo ! Bumpo ! at your old tricks, I see. Shoat has always 
been your weakness, you know, from the period of the famous 
" Engagement in Culpeper," where you slew one of these inoffen- 
sive animals. But here, I confess, there are extenuating circum- 
stances. For a shoat to eat the corn of a lieutenant of a battery, 
is a crime of the deepest and darkest dye, and in this case that 
swift retribution which visited the deed, was consistent with both 
law and equity. 

The natural historian will be interested in the announcement 
that he had killed a good many robins, but none were good, " as 
they live altogether on a kind of berry called gall-berry, which 
makes them bitter." " Bears, deer, coons, and opossum " there 
are ; but the Lieutenant has killed none. 

" The weather," he adds, " is as warm here as any day in May 



MY FRIEND LIEUTENANT BUMPO. 363 

in the valley. We are on a sort of island, bounded by dense swamp 
on each side, and a river before and behind, with the bridges washed 
away. We are throwing up fortifications, but I don't think we 
will ever need them, as it is almost impossible for the Yankees to 
find us hereP 

Admire the impregnable position in which Lieutenant Bumpo 
with two pieces of artillery, " commanding in the field," awaits 
the approach of his old friends. Dense swamps on his flanks, 
and rivers without bridges in his front and rear, across which, 
unless they come with pontoons, he can blaze away at them to 
advantage ! That he is certain to perform that ceremony if he 
can, all who know him will cheerfully testify. If he falls it will 
be beside his gun, like a soldier, and "dead on the field of 
honour '' shall be the young Virginian's epitaph. 

But I do not believe he will fall. The supreme Ruler of all 
things will guard the young soldier who has so faithfully per- 
formed his duty to the land of his birth. 

" I think," he adds in his letter before me, " if luck does not 
turn against us, we shall be recognised very soon. I don't care 
how soon, but I am no more tired of it than I was twelve months 
ago." 

Is not that the rino- of the genuine metal ? The stuff out of 
which the good soldier is made ? He is no more tired of it than 
he was a year ago, and will cheerfully fight it out to the end. 
Not " tired of it " when so many are " tired of it." When such 
numbers would be willing to compromise the quarrel — to aban- 
don the journey through the wilderness to Canaan — and return 
a-hungered to the fleshpots of Egypt! 

Such, in rapid outline, is the military career of my friend. I 
said in the beginning that he was a " representative man." Is 
he not? I think that he represents a great and noble race to 
the life — the true-hearted youths of the South. They have 
come up from every State and neighbourhood ; from the banks 
of the Potomac and the borders of the Gulf. They laid down 
the school-book to take up the musket. They forgot that they 
were young, and remembered only that their soil was invaded. 

They were born in all classes of the social body. The humble 



864 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

child of toil stood beside the young heir of an ancient line, and 
they lived and fared alike. One sentiment inspired them in 
common, and made them brethren — love for their country and 
hatred of her enemies. Their faces were beardless, but the stub- 
born resolution of full manhood dwelt in every bosom. They 
fought beside their elders, and no worse, often better. No hard- 
ships made them quail. They were cheerful and high-spirited, 
marching to battle with a gay and chivalric courage, which was 
beautiful and inspiring to behold. 

"When they survived the bloody contest they laughed gaily, 
like children, around the camp fire at night. When they fell 
they died bravely, like true sons of the South. 

I have seen them lying dead upon many battle-fields ; with 
bosoms torn and bloody, but faces composed and tranquil. Fate 
had done her worst, and the young lives had ended ; but not 
vainly has this precious blood been poured out on the land. 
From that sacred soil shall spring up courage, honour, love of 
country, knightly faith, and truth — glory, above all, for the noble 
land, whose very children fought and died for her ! 

So ends my outline sketch of the good companion of many 
hours. 

Send him back soon, Carolina, to his motherland Virginia, 
smiling, hearty, " gay and happy," as he left her borders ! 

Ainsi soit-il I 



V. 
CORPORAL SHABRACK 



HIS OPINION OF GENERAL LEE. 

Gamp Quattlebum Rifles, Army of Northern Virginia, 
December 10, 1863. 

When I left home, my dear boys, I promised to write to you 
whenever an opportunity occurred, and give you some of my 
views and opinions. 

I have an opportunity to-morrow to send you this ; and as the 
characters of great men are valuable guides to growing boys 
who are shaping their own, I will take this occasion to tell you 
something about the famous Commander of the Army of North- 
ern Virginia, General Lee. 

I will first describe his appearance ; for I have always ob- 
served that when we know how a great man looks, we take far 
more interest in his sayings and doings, for we have an accurate 
idea of the sort of person who is talking or acting. I remem- 
ber reading once that Caesar, the celebrated Roman General, was 
a dandy in his youth — a sort of "fine gentleman " about Rome ; 
and had lost all his hair, which he regretted greatly, and tried to 
conceal with the laurel crown he wore. Also, that when he 
conquered Gaul he was thin and pale, had frequent fainting 
fits, and yet was so resolute and determined that while he was 
riding on horseback, over mountains and through rivers, he 
would dictate dispatches to as many as seven secretaries at a 



366 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

time, who were carried in litters at his side. I also remember 
reading how the Emperor Napoleon looked, and all about his 
old gray overcoat, his cocked hat, his habit of taking snuff from 
his waistcoat pocket, and his dark eyes, set in the swarthy face, 
and looking at you so keenly as he spoke to you. I was greatly 
helped, too, in my idea of Greneral Washington — whom Greneral 
Lee, to my thinking, greatly resembles — by finding that he was 
tall, muscular, and carried his head erect, repulsing with a sim- 
ple look all meddling or impertinence, and impressing upon all 
around him, by his grave and noble manner, a conviction of the 
lofty elements of his soul. Knowing these facts about Csesar, 
Napoleon, and Washington, I noticed that I had a much better 
understanding of their careers, and indeed seemed to see them 
when they performed any celebrated action which was related 
in their biographies. 

General Lee is now so justly famous that, although posterity 
will be sure to find out all about him, my grandchildren (if I 
have any) will be glad to hear how he appeared to the eyes of 
Corporal Shabrach, their grandfather, one of the humble soldiers 
of his army. 

I have seen the General frequently, and he once spoke to me, 
so I can describe him accurately. He has passed middle age, and 
his hair is of an iron gray. He wears a beard and moustache, 
which are also gray, and give him a highly venerable appear- 
ance. He has been, and still is, an unusually handsome man, 
and would attract attention in a crowd from his face alone. 
Exposure to sun and wind has made his complexion of a ruddy, 
healthy tint, and from beneath his black felt hat a pair of eyes 
look at you with a clear, honest intentness, which gives you 
thorough confidence both in the ability and truthfulness of their 
owner. I have always observed that you can tell the character 
of a man by his eyes, and I would be willing to stake my farm 
and all I am worth upon the statement that there never was a 
person with such eyes as General Lee's who was not an honest 
man. As to his stature, it is tall, and his body is well knit. 
You would say he was strong and could bear much fatigue, 
without being heavy or robust. His bearing is erect, and when 



CORPORAL SHABRACH. 367 

his head bends forward, as it sometimes does, it appears to stoop 
under the weight of some great scheme he is concocting. His 
dress is very simple, consisting generally of an old gray coat, 
dark-blue pantaloons, a riding cape of the same colour ; boots 
worn outside, and a black hat. Sometimes a large dark overcoat 
is worn over all. He seldom carries a sword. He rides fine 
horses, and is my model of an old Virginia Cavalier, who would 
rather be torn to pieces by shell and canister than give up any 
of his rights. 

If I was asked to describe General Lee's ordinary appearance 
and attitude, either in the saddle, in front of the line-of-battle, or 
standing with his field-glass in his hand, reconnoitring the 
enemy keenly from beneath the gray eyebrows, I should say, in 
words I have met with in some book, that his attitude was one 
of sii]Dreme invincible repose. Here you see a man whom no 
anxieties can flurry, no reverses dismay. I have seen him thus 
a dozen times, on important occasions ; and that, if nothing else, 
convinces me that he is, in the foundations of his character, a very 
great man. No man in public affairs now, to my thinking at 
least, is so fine a representative and so truthful a type of the great 
Virginia race of old times. 

As to his character, everybody has had an opportunity of 
forming an opinion upon the subject — at least of his military 
character. Some persons, I know — Captain Quattlebum for 
instance, who is a man of no great brains himself, however, con- 
fidentially speaking — say that Lee is not a great general, and 
compares him to Napoleon, who, they say, won greater victories, 
and followed them up to better results. Such comparisons, to 
my thinking, are foolish. I am no great scholar, but I have read 
enough about Napoleon's times to know that they were very 
different from General Lee's. He, I mean Napoleon, was at the 
head of a French army, completely disciplined, and bent on 
" glory." They wanted their general to fight on every occasion, 
and win more " glory." If he didn't go on winning " glory " he 
was not the man for them. The consequence was that Napoleon, 
who was quite as fond of " glory " as his men, fought battles 
whenever he could get at the enemy, and as his armies were 



368 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

thoroughly disciplined, with splendid equipments, and plenty 
of provisions and ammunition, he was able to follow up his suc- 
cesses, as he did at Marengo and Austerlitz, and get the full 
benefit of them. Lee is in a very different situation from Napo- 
leon. This is an army of volunteers, who did not come into the 
field to gain " glory," but to keep the Yankees from coming 
further South. They have no disposition to rebel and get rid 
of Greneral Lee if he does not feed them on a dish of " glory" 
every few weeks. They are not as well organized as they ought 
to be, and are badly equipped, provisioned, and ammunitioned. 
With such an army it is unreasonable to expect General Lee to 
fight as often and as desperately as Napoleon did, or to follow 
up his victories. He takes the view, I suppose, that he is Com- 
mander-in-Chief of the Confederate States in the field ; that 
"glory " is a secondary matter; that worrying out the enemy is 
the best tactics for us, with our smaller number and superior 
material ; and that no risks ought to be run with our army, 
which, once destroyed by an unlucky step, could not be replaced. 
Altogether, for the reasons stated above, I think Greneral Lee is a 
better soldier for the place he occupies than Napoleon would be. 

I can look back to many occasions where I think a different 
course from that which he pursued would have been better, but 
I do not, on that account, mean to say that he was wrong. I 
think -he was right. My dear boys, there is no man so wise as 
he who explains what ought to have been done, after the event. 
It is like the progress of science. A child, in the year 1864, 
knows ten thousand things that the wisest philosopher of 1764 
knew nothing about. So a boy may be able to understand that 
this or that would have been better, from what he now knows, 
when our wisest generals, from want of information at the time, 
could not. It is a solemn thing to be in command of an army 
which cannot be renewed, if once destroyed ; especially when 
that army is the only breakwater against the torrent attempting 
to sweep us away. 

I have, on all occasions, expressed these opinions of General 
Lee, and I intend to go on expressing them, with many others 
like them, and if anybody thinks I do so from interested 



CORPORAL SHABRACH. 369 

motives thej are welcome to their opinion. It is not likely that 
the Commander-in-Chief will ever know whether Fifth Corporal 
Shabrach likes or dislikes him — whether he admires him, or the 
contrary. I am glad of that. I consider myself just as good as 
General Lee as long as I am honest and a good soldier, doing 
my duty to the country in the upright, brave, and independent 
attitude of a free Virginian ; and let me tell you that the Gene- 
ral would be the first to acknowledge it. My dear boys, there 
is nobody so simple and unassuming as a gentleman, and L tell 
you again that General Lee is not only a gentleman, but a great 
man, and Corporal Shabrach takes off his hat and salutes him, 
whether noticed by the General or not. It is bis duty to salute 
him, and he performs that duty without expecting to be pro- 
moted to Fourth Corporal for it. 

I will therefore say of General Lee that, to my thinking, his 
character bears the most striking and ^rprising resemblance to 
that of General Washington, When I say this, you will know 
my opinion of him, for I have always taught my boys to revere 
the name of the Father of his Country. In saying this about 
General Lee, I do not mean any empty compliment. It is very 
easy to talk about a " second Washington " without meaning 
much, but I mean what I say. I read Marshall's Life of the 
General some years since, and I remember taking notice of the 
fact that Washington appeared to be the tallest and strongest of 
all the great men around him. I did not see that he excelled 
each 07ie of them in every imrticular. On the contrary, there was 
Patrick Henry ; he could make a better speech. There was 
Jefferson ; he could write a better " State paper.'' And there 
was Alexander Hamilton, who was a much better hand at figures, 
and the hocus-pocus of currency and " finance." (I wish we had 
him now, if we could make him a States' Bights man.) But 
Washington, to my thinking, was a much greater man than 
Henry, or Jefferson, or Hamilton. He was iviser. In the bal- 
ance and harmony of his faculties he excelled them all, and 
when it came to his moral nature they were nowhere at all ! 
In reading his life, I remember thinking that he was the fairest 
man I ever heard of. His very soul seemed to revolt against 

24 



370 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

injustice to the meanest creature that crawled ; and he appeared 
to be too proud to use the power he wielded to crush those who 
had made him their enemy by their own wrong-doing. Al- 
though he was a man of violent temper, he had it under perfect 
control, and he seems to have gone through life with the view 
of having carved on his tombstone : " Here lies a man who 
never did intentional injustice to a human creature." Now any- 
body that knows General Lee knows that this is just like him. 
For my part, I am just as sure as I can be of anything, that if 
one of his Major-Generals tried to oppress the humble Fifth Cor- 
poral Shabrach, he would put the Major-General under arrest, 
and make him answer for his despotism. If you will look at 
the way General "Washington fought, also, you will find a great 
resemblance to General Lee's tactics. The enemy had then, as 
now, to be worried out — to be evaded by falling back when the 
ammunition or rations gave out — to be, harassed by partisans, 
and defeated at one point to balance their success at another. 
The account current was cast up at the end of each year, the 
balance struck, and preparations made to open a new account for 
the next year, and the next ! 

That's the way we are fighting this war, and that is General 
Lee's plan, I think, as it was Washington's. 

All this army has pretty much the same opinion of General 
Lee that I have, and is glad that it is commanded by one whom 
it both respects and loves. There is no doubt about the Gene- 
ral's popularity with the army, and its confidence in him. The 
men call him "Uncle Eobert," and are proud of his notice. I 
told you that he once spoke to your father, who is nothing but 
Fifth Corporal, and you will be proud when I tell you that little 
Willie's letter, the first he ever wrote me, was the cause. I was 
sitting on a stump by the roadside reading it with a delight that 
showed itself, I suppose, in my countenance, when, hearing 
horses' hoofs near me, I raised my head and saw General Lee, in 
his old riding-cape, with several members of his staff. I rose 
quickly to my feet and made the military salute — two fingers to 
the hat — when what was my surprise to see the General stop 
with all his stafi". His hand went to his hat in return for my 



CORPORAL SHABRACH. 371 

salute, and looking at me with his clear eyes, he said in a grave, 
friendly voice : 

"I suppose that is a letter from your wife, is it not, my 
friend?" 

It was a proud moment for Corporal Shabrach, I assure you, 
my children, to be called " my friend " by old Uncle Robert. 
But somehow, he didn't make me feel as if he was condescending. 
It was just as if he had said : " Shabrach, m}'' friend, we are both 
good patriots, fighting for our country, and because I am Com- 
mander-in-Chief that is no reason why I should not respect an 
honest Fifth Corporal, and take an interest in him and his domes- 
tic matters." His voice seemed to say all that, and thinking he 
was in no hurry that morning, I "replied: 

" No, General ; I have no wife now, although I have had two 
in my time, the last one having been a great trial to me, owing 
to her temper, which was a hard thing to stand." 

The General smiled at this, and said with a sort of grave 
humour that made his eyes twinkle: 

" Well, my friend, you appear to be too well advanced in life 
to have a sweetheart, although " (I saw hitn look at the chevrons 
on my sleeve) " all the Corporals I ever knew have been gallant." 

'^ It is not from a sweetheart, General," I replied ; *' after Mrs. 
Shabrach the Second died, I determined to remain unmarried. 
My little boy, Willie, wrote it ; he is only six years old, but is 
anxious to grow up and be one of General Lee's soldiers." 

" That is a brave boy," returned the General; "but I hope 
the war will not last so long. You must give him my love, and 
tell him "to fight for his country if he is ever called upon. Good 
day, my friend." 

And saluting me, the General rode on. He often stops to 
speak to the soldiers in that way ; and I mention this little inci- 
dent, my children, to show you how kindly he is in his temper, 
and how much he loves a quiet joke, with all his grave air, and 
the anxieties that must rest on him as Commander-in-Chief of 
the army. 

I have always despised people that looked up with a mean 
worship to great men, but I see nothing wrong or unmanly 



372 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

in regarding with a sort of veneration — a mixture of affection 
and respect — this noble old cavalier, who seems to have stepped 
out of the past into the present, to show us what sort of men 
Virginia can still produce. As for myself, I never look at him 
without thinking : " It is good for you to be alive to let the 
youths of 1863 see what their fathers and grandfathers were in 
the great old days." The sight of the erect form, the iron-gray 
hair and beard, the honest eyes, and the stately figure, takes me 
back to the days when Washington, and Randolph, and Pendle- 
ton, used to figure on the stage, and which my father told me all 
about in my youth. Long may the old hero live to lead us, and 
let no base hand ever dare to sully the glories of our well 
beloved General — the " noblest Roman of them all," the pink of 
chivalry and honour. May health and happiness attend him ! 

Your affectionate father, 

Solomon Shabrach, 
5th Corporal, Army Northern Virginia. 



II. 

HIS DESCRIPTION OF THE PASSPORT OFFICE. 

Camp Quattlebum Rifles, A. N. V., 
January 25, 1864. 

When you come out of Richmond, my dear boys, you have 
to get a passport. As you have never yet travelled from home, 
I will explain what a passport is. It is a paper (always brown) 
which is signed by somebody or his clerk, and which induces a 
melancholy-looking soldier at the cars, with a musket and fixed 
bayonet, to let you go back from the horrors of Richmond to 
the delights of camp. 

As without this brown paper (for unless the paper is brown 
the passport is not good) you cannot get back home — that is to 
camp, the soldier's home — there is, of course, a great crowd of 
applicants always at the office where the papers are delivered. I 
was recently in Richmond, having been sent there on business 



I 



CORPORAL SHABRACH. 373 

connected with the Quartermaster's Department of our regiment, 
and I will describe for your instruction the passport office, and 
the way you get a passport. 

I thought at first I would not need one, because my orders 
were approved by several high officers, and last by Major Tay- 
lor, Adjutant-General of the army, "by command of General 
Lee," and nobody had demanded any other evidence of my right 
to travel before I reached Richmond. " Uncle Robert " will not 
allow his provost-marshals at Orange or Gordonsville to deny his 
sign-manual, and I was under the mistaken impression that I 
could enjoy the luxury of taking back a lot of shoes and blankets 
to the Quattlebum Rifles, without getting a permit on brown 
paper from some Major or Captain in Richmond. 1 accordingly 
went to the cars, and on presenting my orders to the melancholy 
young man with the musket and bayonet, posted there, found 
his musket drop across the door. When I asked him what that 
meant, he shook his head and said I had " no passport." I 
called his attention again to my orders, but he remained immov- 
able, muttering in a dreary sort of way, " You must get a pass- 
port." 

" Why, here are the names of a Brigadier and Major-General." 

" You must get a passport." 

" Here is Major Taylor's signature, hy^ command of General 
Lee:' 

" You must get a passport." 

"From whom?" 

" Captain ," I forget who, " at the passport office." 

This appeared to be such a good joke that I began to laugh, 
at which the sentinel looked very much astonished, and evi- 
dently had his doubts of my sanity. I went back and at once 
looked up the " passport office." I found that it was in a long 
wooden building, on a broad street, in the upper part of the city, 
and when I reached the place I found a large crowd assembled 
at the dt)or. This door was about two feet wide, and one at a 
time only could enter — the way being barred by a fierce-looking 
sentinel who kept his musket with fixed bayonet. I observed 
that everything was " fixed bayonet " in Richmond, directly 



374 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

across the door. This ferocious individual let in one at a time, 
and as each one entered the crowd behind him, which was as 
tightly packed together as a parcel of herrings in a barrel, 
surged forward with a sort of rush, only to be driven back by 
the sentinel, who scowled at them pretty much as a farmer does 
at a parcel of lazy negroes who have neglected their work and 
incurred the penalty of the lash. As fiist as the passports were 
granted, those who got them passed out at another door ; a 
second sentinel, with musket and fixed bayonet also, bade defi- 
ance to the crowd. 

Well, after working my way through the mass, and remaining 
jammed in it for over an hour, my turn came, and with a slow 
and reluctant motion, the sentinel, who had been eyeing me for 
some time with a sullen and insolent look, raised his musket and 
allowed me to enter. His eye continued to be fixed on me, as 
if I had come to pick some one's pocket, but I did not heed him, 
my curiosity being too much excited by the scene before me. 
A row of applicants were separated from a row of clerks in 
black coats, by a tall railing with a sort of counter on top, and 
the clerks were bullying the applicants. That is the only word 
I can use to describe it. I am not mistaken about this. Here 
were very respectable looking citizens, officers of the army, fine 
looking private soldiers, and all were being bullied. " Why do 
they bully people at the passport office ? " you will probably ask, 
boj^s. I don't know, but^ have always observed that small " offi- 
cial " people always treat the world at large with a sort of air of 
defiance, as if " outsiders " had no right to be coming there to 
demand anything of them ; and the strange thing is, that every- 
body submits to it as a matter of course. 

Well, there were a large number of persons who wanted pass- 
ports, and only a few clerks were ready to wait on them. A 
considerable number of well dressed young men who would 
make excellent privates — they were so stout and well fed — sat 
around the warm stove reading newspapers and chatting. I 
wondered that they did^ not help, but was afterwards informed 
that this was not " their hour," and they had nothing to do with 
the establishment until " their hour " arrived. 



CORPORAL SHABRACH. 375 

At last my turn came round, and I presented my orders to a 
clerk, who looked first at the paper, then at me, pretty much as 
a cashier in a bank would do if he suspected that a draft presented 
to him was a forgery. Then the official again studied the paper, 
and said in the tone of a Lieutenant-General commanding ; 

" What is your name ? " 

"It is on my orders," I said. 

" I asked your name," snapped the official. 

" Solomon Shabrach." 

" What rank ? " 

" Fifth Corporal." 

" What regiment ? " 

" Quattlebum Rifles." 

" Hum ! don't know any such regiment. What army ? " 

" General Lee's." 

" What did you visit Richmond for ? " 

" On public business." 

" I asked you what you came to Richmond for ! " growled the 
clerk, with the air of a man who is going to say next, " Senti- 
nel, arrest this man, and bear him off to the deepest dungeon < 
of Castle Thunder." 

" My friend," I said mildly, for I am growing too old to have 
my temper ruffled by every youngster, " the paper you hold in 
your hand is my orders, endorsed by my various military supe- 
riors. That paper will show you that I am Corporal Shabrach, 
of the Quattlebum Rifles, — Virginia regiment, 's bri- 
gade, 's division, 's corps. Army of Northern Virginia. 

You will also see from it that I am in Richmond to take charge 
of Quartermaster's stores, and return with them to camp ' with- 
out unnecessary delay.' I have obtained the stores, which are 
shoes and blankets, and I want to obey my order and take them 
to the company. If you are unwilling to give me the necessary 
passport to do so, give me back my orders, and I will go to 
General Winder, who is the commanding officer here, I believe, 
and ask him if there is any objection to my returning with my 
shoes and blankets to the army." 

At the name of General Winder a growl ran along the table, 



876 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

and in about a minute I bad my passport handed me without 
further discussion. It was a permit to go to Orange Court- 
house, Corporal Shabrach binding himself on honour not to com- 
municate any intelligence (for publication) which, if known to 
the enemy, would be prejudicial to the Confederate States; also 
signing an oath on the back of the paper, by which he further 
solemnly swore that he would yield true faith and allegiance to 
the aforesaid Confederate States. This was on brown paper — 
and I then knew that I could get out of Richmond without trou- 
ble. The sentinel at the other door raised his musket, scowled 
at me, and let me pass ; and at the cars, the melancholy senti- 
nel there, too, did likewise. I observed that he read my pass 
upside down, with deep attention ; but I think he relied upon 
the fact that the paper was brown, as a conclusive proof of its 
genuineness. 

I have thus described, my dear boys, the manner in which you 
procure a passport in Richmond. Why is the public thus an- 
noyed? I really can't tell you. Everybody has to get one; 
and even if Mrs. Shabrach (the second) was alive she would have 
to sign that oath of true allegiance if she wanted to get on the 
cars. I shall only add that I think the clerk who put her under 
cross-examination would soon grow tired of the ceremony. Her 
tongue was not a pleasant one ; but she is now at rest. 

I must now say good-by, my dear boys. 

Your affectionate father, 

Solomon Shabrach. 

Fifth Corporal. 



I 



VI. 
THE BAND OF THE "FIRST YIRGIMA." 



That band in the Pines again ! It is always playing, and 
intruding on my reveries as I sit here in my tent, after work, 
and muse. Did I say intruding? A word both discourteous 
and unjust; for the music brings me pleasant thoughts and 
memories. May you live a thousand years, O brave musicians, 
and the unborn generations listen to your grand crescendos and 
sad cadences ! 

That music brings back some I heard many years ago, on the 
Capitol square, in Richmond. From a platform rising between 
the Capitol and City-Hall this music played, and it was listened 
to by youth and maiden, under the great moon, with rapture. 
O summer nights ! O happy hours of years long gone into the 
dust ! Will you never come back — never ? And something 
like a ghostly echo answered, " never ! " That band is hushed ; 
the musicians have departed ; the instruments are hung up in 
the halls of oblivion ; but still it plays in memory these good 
old tunes of " Far Away in Tennessee," " The Corn Top's Ripe," 
and " The Dear Virginia Bride." flitting figures in the moon- 
light of old years, return ! Ring, clarionet, though the drooping 
foliage of the elms, and drum, roar on ! The summer night 
comes back, and the fairy face, like an exile's dream of home in 
a foreign land. 

But that band is not still ; the musicians are not dead ; they 
live to-day, and blow away as before, for they roll the drum 
and sound the bugle for the First Virginia Regiment of the 



378 WEAKIKG OF THE GRAY. 

Armj of Northern Virginia. I heard them afterwards, on two 
occasions, when the music was charming, and the recollection of 
the scenes amid which it sounded interests me. The second time 
I heard the brave musicians was at Fairfax Court-house, in 
1861 — or was it in 1761? A century seems to have rolled 
away since then. 

In 1761 the present writer must have been a youth, and 
appears to remember that a fair face was beside him on that 
moonlit portico at Fairfax, while the band of the First Virginia 
played the " Mocking Bird," from the camp across the mills. 
The scene is clear in memory to-day, as then' to the material eye : 
the moonlight sleeping on the roofs of the village ; the dis- 
tant woods, dimly seen on the horizon ; the musing figure in the 
shadow ; and the music making the air magical with melod}', 
to die away in the balmy breeze of the summer night. To-day 
the Federal forces occupj'- the village, and their bands play 
" Yankee Doodle," or " The Star-Spangled Banner." I^o more 
does the good old band of the First Virginia play there, telling 
you to listen to the " Mocking Bird," and Colonel Wyndham's 
bugles ring in place of Stuart's ! 

The third occasion when the performance of this band im- 
pressed me was in August, 1861, when through the camps at 
Centreville ran a rumour, blown upon the wind, which rumour 
taking to itself a voice, said — 

" The Prince is coming ! " 

All at once there appeared upon the summit of the hill, west of 
Centreville, a common hack, which stopped not far from where 
I was standing, and around this vehicle there gathered in a few 
moments quite a crowd of idlers and sightseers. Then the door 
was opened ; from the carriage descended three or four persons, 
and these gentlemen walked out on the hill from which a view 
of the battle-field of Manassas in the distance was obtained. 

One of these gentlemen was Prince Jerome Bonaparte, all 
knew ; but which was the Prince ? Half-a-dozen officers in 
foreign unilbrni had ridden with the carriage, and one of these 
ofi&cers was so splendidly clad that he seemed to be the person- 
age in question. 



THE BAND OF THE "FIRST VIRGINIA." 379 

"I suppose that is the Prince," I said to a friend beside me. 

"No, you are mistaken." ! 

" Which is, then ? " 

" Look around in the crowd, and see if you cannot tell him 
from the family likeness." 

Following this suggestion, my gaze all at once was arrested 
by a plainly clad person in the midst 'of the cortege — a farmer 
apparently, for he wore a brown linen coat and common straw 
hat, with nothing whatever to indicate the soldier or dignitary 
in his appearance. But his dress disappeared from view and 
was speedily forgotten ; the face absorbed attention from the 
first moment ; that face was the most startling reproduction of 
Napoleon's — the first Emperor's. There was no possibility of 
making a mistake in this — every one who was familiar with 
the portraits of Napoleon recognised the prince at a glance. 
He was taller and more portly than the " Man of Destiny ; " but 
the family resemblance in feature and expression was absolutely 
perfect. I needed no one to say " This is a Bonaparte." The 
blood of the Corsican was there for all to recognise ; this was a 
branch of that tree whose boughs had nearly overspread a con- 
tinent. 

Soon afterwards the forces then at Centreville were drawn up 
for review — the infantry ranged across the valley east and west ; 
the artillery and cavalry disposed on the flanks of the brigades. 
Thus formed in line of battle, the forces were reviewed by the 
French Prince, by whose side rode Beauregard. Then the cortege 
stopped ; an aide left it at full gallop — soon the order w^hich he 
carried was understood b}'- all. The First Virginia regiment was 
seen in motion, and advancing ; reaching the centre of the field, 
it went through all the evolutions of infantry for the Prince's 
inspection ; and while the movements were going on, the band 
of the regiment — that same old band ! — played the " Mocking 
Bird," and all the well known tunes, impressing itself upon the 
memory of everybody present, as an inseparable "feature" of 
the occasion ! 

It was not Napoleon I. who reviewed the forces of Beaure- 
gard at Centreville ; but it was a human being astonishingly 



380 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

like liim. And if Prince Jerome ever sees this page, and is led 
to recall wliat be looked upon that day, I think he will remem- 
ber the band of the First Virginia, playing the "Mocking Bird" 
and the " Happy Land of Dixie." 

Fairfax, Centreville, Leesburg ! Seldom does the present 
writer recall the first two names without remembering the third ; 
and here it was — at Leesburg — that a band of the enemy's made 
a profound impression upon his nerves. The band in question 
performed across the Potomac, and belonged to the forces under 
General Banks, who had not yet encountered the terrible Stone- 
wall Jackson, or even met with that disastrous repulse at Ball's 
Bluff. He was camped opposite Leesburg, and from the hill 
which we occupied could be heard the orders of the Federal 
officers at drill, together with the roar of their brass band playing 
"Yankee Doodle" or " Hail Columbia." To the patriotic heart 
those airs may be inspiring, but it cannot be said with truth that 
they possess a high degree of sweetness or melody. So it hap- 
pened that after listening for some weeks from the grassy slope 
above "Big Spring" to this band, the present writer grew des- 
perate, and was filled with an unchristian desire to slay the 
musicians, and so end their performances. Columbia was hailed 
at morning, noon, and night ; Yankee Doodle became a real per- 
sonage and walked through one's dreams — those horrible brass 
instruments became a thorn in the flesh, a torture to the soul, 
an inexpressible jar and discord. 

So, something like joy filled the heart of this writer when the 
order came to march to a point lower down the river. The column 
moved ; the point was reached ; the tents were pitched — then 
suddenly came " the unkindest cut of all." The very same band 
struck up across the river, playing " Hail Columbia " with 
energy, in apparent honour of our presence opposite. When we 
had moved, it had moved ; when we halted, it flalted — there was 
the wretched invention of Satan playing away as before with 
enormous ardour, and evidently rejoicing in its power over us. 
The musicians played at every guard-mounting and drill ; the 
drums rolled at tattoo and reveille; the bugles rang clearly 
through the air of evening ; and the friends of General Banks 



THE BAND OF THE *' FIRST VIRGINIA." 381 

seemed to be having the jolliest time imaginable. That miser- 
able band continued to play its "patriotic airs" until everybody 
grew completely accustomed to it. It was even made useful by 
the sergeant of a company, I heard. He had no watch, and 
economically used the tattoo and reveille of the enemy's drums 
to regulate his roll-call, and " lights out." 

I thought to speak only of the good old band of the First Yir- 
ginia; but have spoken too of its rival over the Potomac. A 
word still of the band in the pine wood yonder, which plays, 
and plays, with splendid and rejoiceful ardour. It is loud, 
inspiring, moving, but it is not gay ; and I ask myself the 
question. Why ? Alas ! it is the ear that listens, not the music, 
which makes mirthful or the reverse these animated strains. 
The years bring many changes, and we — alas ! we change cum 
illis ! Once on a time the sound of music was like laughter ; 
now it seems to sigh. Does it sigh for the good companions 
gone, or only for lost youth, with the flower of the pea, and the 
roses that will never bloom more ? martial music, in your 
cadences are many memories — and memory is not always gay 
and mirthful ! So, cease your long-drawn, splendid battle 
anthem ! — play, instead, some " passionate ballad, gallant and 
gay " — or better still, an old Virginia reel, such as the soldiers of 
the army used to hear before they lived in tents. Unlike the 
great Luria, we long to see some " women in the camp " — or if 
not in person, at least in imagination ! 

Has some spirit of the air flashed to the brave musicians what 
I wish ? Do they feel as I do ? The gayest reel of all the reels 
since time was born, comes dancing on the wind, and every 
thought but mirth is banished. Gray reel, play on! Bright 
carnival of the years that have flown, come back — come back, 
with the smiling lips and the rose-red cheeks, with the braidad 
hair and the glimmer of mischievous eyes ! 



i 

VII. 

THE ^^OLD STONEWALL BRIGADE." 



In every array there is a Corps cV Elite which bears the heaviest 
brunt of battle, and carries off the chief glories of the conflict. 
In the forces of Cassar it was the " Tenth Legion " which that 
" foremost man of all this world " took personal command of, 
and led into action, when the moment for the last strugjo-le came. 
In the royal troops of Louis XIY., fighting against Marlborough, 
it was the Garde Franqais who were called upon when " do or 
die " was the word, and men were needed who with hats off 
would call on their enemies to deliver the first fire, and then 
close in, resolved ^o conquer or leave their dead bodies on the 
field. In the Grand Arniee of Napoleon it was the Vieux 
Garde which the Emperor depended upon to retrieve the for- 
tunes of the most desperate conflicts, and carry forward the 
Imperial Eagles to victory. 

In the Army of Northern Virginia there is a corps, which, 
without prejudice to their noble commander, may be said to 
represent the Tenth Legion of C^sar, the French Guard of 
Louis, and the Old Guard of Napoleon. This is the Old Stone- 
wall Brigade of Jackson. 

The Old Stonewall Brigade I "What a host of thoughts, memo- 
ries, and emotions, do those simple words incite ! The very men- 
tion of the famous band is like the bugle note that sounds " to 
arms ! " These veterans have fought and bled and conquered 
on so many battle-fields that memory grows weary almost of 
recalling their achievements. Gathering around Jackson in the 
old days of 1861, when Patterson confronted Johnston in the 
Valley of the Shenandoah — when Stuart was a simple Colonel, 



THE "old stonewall BRIGADE." 883 

and Aslibj only a Captain — they held in check an enemy 
twenty times their number, and were moulded by their great 
commander into that Spartan phalanx which no Federal bayonet 
could break. They were boys and old men ; the heirs of 
ancient names, who had lived in luxury from childhood, and the 
humblest of the .unlettered sons of toil ; students and plough- 
men, rosy-cheeked urchins and grizzled seniors, old and young, 
rich and poor ; but all were comrades, trained, united, fighting 
for a common end, and looking wilh supreme confidence to the 
man in the dingy gray uniform, with the- keen eyes glittering 
under the yellow gray cap, who at Manassas was to win for 
himself and them that immortal name of " Stonewall," cut now 
with a pen of iron on the imperishable shaft of history. 

It was the Shenandoah Yalley which more than all other 
regions gave the corps its distinctive character and material ; 
that lovely land which these boys fought over so often after- 
wards, charging upon many battle-fields with that fire and reso- 
lution which come only to the hearts of men fighting within 
sight of their homes. Jackson called to them ; they came from 
around "Winchester, and Millwood, and Charlestown ; from valley 
and mountain ; they fell into line, their leader took command, 
and then commenced their' long career of toil and glory ; their 
wonderful marches over thousands of miles ; their incessant com- 
bats against odds that seemed overpowering ; their contempt 
of all that makes the soldier faint-hearted, of snow and rain, and 
cold and heat, and hunger and thirst, and marching that wears 
down the strongest frames, making the most determined energies 
yield. Many dropped by the way, but few failed Jackson. 
The soul of their leader seemed to have entered every breast ; 
and thus in thorough rappoi't with that will of iron, they seemed 
to have discovered the secret of achieving impossibilities. To 
meet the enemy was to drive him before them, it seemed — so 
obstinately did the eagles of victory continue to perch upon the 
old battle flag. The men of the Old Stonewall Brigade marched 
on, and fought, and triumphed, like war machines which felt no 
need of rest, food, or sleep. On the advance to Bomney they 
marched — many of them without shoes — over roads so slippery 



384: WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

with ice that men were falling and guns going off all along the 
line, and at night lay down without blankets or food upon the 
snow, to be up and moving again at dawn. When Shields and 
Fremont were closing in on Jackson's rear, they marched in one 
day fro.m Harper's Ferry to Strasburg, nearly fifty miles. On 
the advance in August, 1862, to the Second Manassas, they 
passed over nearly forty miles, almost without a moment's rest ; 
and as Jackson rode along the line which was still moving on 
" briskly and without stragglers," no orders could prevent them 
from bursting forth into tumultuous cheers at the sight of him. 
He had marched them nearly to death, to reach a position where 
they were to sustain the whole weight of Pope's army hurled 
against them — they were weary unto death, and staggering — but 
they made the forests of Fauquier resound with that electric 
shout which said, " We are ready ! " 

Such has been the work of the Old Brigade — not their ghry ; 
that is scarcely here alluded to — but their hard, unknown toil to 
carry out their chief's orders. "March I" has been the order 
of their going. The very rapidity of their marches separates 
them from all soldier comforts — often from their very blankets, 
however cold the weather ; and any other troops but these and 
their Southern comrades would long since have mutinied, and 
demanded bread and rest. But the shadow of disaffection never 
flitted over forehead in that command. Whatever discontent 
may be felt at times at the want of attention on the part of sub- 
ordinate of&cers to their necessities, the " long roll " has only to 
be beaten — they have only to see the man in the old faded uni- 
form appear, and hunger, cold, fatigue, are forgotten. The Old 
Brigade is ready — "Here!" is the answer to the roll-call, all 
along the line : and though the eye is dull from want of food 
and rest, the arm is strong and the bayonet is sharp and bright. 

That leader in the faded uniform is their idol. Anecdote, 
song, story — in all he is sung or celebrated. The verses profess- 
ing to have been "found upon the body of a Serjeant of the 
Old Stonewall Brigade at Winchester," are known to all — the 
picture they contain of the men around the camp fire — the 
Shenandoah flowing near, the " burly Blue Kidge " echoing to 



THE "OLD STONEWALL BRIGADE." 385 

their strains — and the appearance of the " Blue Light Elder " 
calling on his men to pray with him : 

"Strangle the fool that dares to scoff! 

Attention ! 'tis liis way 
Appealing from his native sod 
In formd pauperis to God, 
' Lay bare thine arm, stretch forth thy rod ! 

Amen ! ' — that's Stonewall's way." 

Here is the rough music of the singer as he proceeds with his 
strain, and recalls the hard conflict of the second Manassas, when 
Lougstreet was at Thoroughfare, Jackson at Grroveton: 

" He's in the saddle now 1 Pall in 1 

Steady — the whole Brigade ! 
Hill's at the ford, cut off! We'll win 

His way out — ball and blade. 
What matter if our shoes are worn ! 
What matter if our feet are torn ! 
' Quick-step — we're with him before dawn ! ' 

That's ' Stonewall Jackson's way.' 

" The sun's bright lances rout the mists 

Of morning, and, by George, 
There's Longstreet struggling in the lists, 

Hemmed in an ugly gorge. 
Pope and his Yankees whipped before — 
'Bay'net and Grape! ' hear Stonewall roar, 
' Charge, Stuart 1 Pay off Ashby's score 1 ' 

That's ' Stonewall Jackson's way ! ' " 

Lastly, hear how the singer at the camp fire, in sight of the 
firs of the Blue Eidge and the waters of the Shenandoah, in- 
dulges iu a wild outburst in honour of his chief: 

" Ah, maiden ! wait and watch and yearn 

For news of Stonewall's band ; 
Ah, widow ! read, with eyes that burn, 

That ring upon thy hand ! 
Ah, wife ! sew on, pray on, hope on : 
Thy life shall not be all forlorn — 
The foe had better ne^er been born 

Than get in StoaewaWs loay ! " 

25 



386 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

These words may sound extravagant, but defeat has met the 
enemy so persistently wherever Jackson has delivered battle at 
the head of the Old Brigade and their brave comrades, that the 
song is not so unreasonable as it may appear. And here let me 
beg that those " brave comrades " of the Old Brigade will not ' 
suppose that I am oblivious of their own glory, their undying 
courage, and that fame they have won, greater than Greek or 
Roman. They fought as the men I am writing of, did — with a 
nerve as splendid, and a patriotism as pure and unfaltering as 
ever characterized human beings. It is only that I am speaking 
now of my comrades of the Shenandoah Valley, who fought 
and fell beneath the good old flag, and thinking of those dear 
dead ones, and the corps in which they won their deathless 
names, I am led to speak of them and it only. 

Of these, and the Old Brigade, I am never weary thinking, 
writing, or telling: of the campaigns of the Valley; the great 
flank movement on the Chickahominj' ; the advance upon Manas- 
sas in the rear of Pope; the stern, hard combat on the left wing 
of the army at the battle of Sharpsburg; all their toils, their 
sufferings, their glories. Their path has been strewed all over 
with battles ; incredible have been the marches of the " Foot 
Cavalry ;" incessant their conflicts. Death has mowed down 
whole ranks of them ; the thinned line tells the story of their 
losses ; but the war-worn veterans still confront the enemy. The 
comrades of those noble souls who have thus poured out their 
hearts' blood, hold their memory, sacred. They laughed with 
them in the peaceful years of boyhood, by the Shenandoah, in 
the fields around Millwood, in Jefferson, or amid the Alleghanies ; 
then they fought beside them, in Virginia, in Maryland, 
wherever the flag was borne ; they loved them, mourn them, 
every name is written on their hearts, whether officer or private, 
and is ineffliceable. Their own time may come, to-day or to- 
morrow ; but they feel, one and all, that if they fldl they will 
give their hearts' blood to a noble cause, and that if they sur- 
vive, the memory of past toils and glories will be sweet. 

Those survivors may be pardoned if they tell their children, 
when the war is ended, that they fought under Jackson, in the 



THE '• OLD STONEWALL BRIGADE." 387 

" Old Stonewall Brigade." They may be pardoned even if they 
boast of their exploits, their wonderful marches, their constant 
and desperate combats, the skill and nerve which snatched vic- 
tory from the jaws of defeat, and, even when they were retiring 
before overwhelming numbers, made it truly better that the foe 
had " ne'er been born" than meet their bayonet charge. 

In speaking of this veteran legion, "praise is virtue." Their 
history is blazoned all over with glory. They are " happy names, 
beloved children" — the favourites of fame, if not of fortune. In 
their dingy uniforms, lying stretched beneath the pines, or by 
the roadside, they are the mark of many eyes which see them 
not, the absorbing thought in the breast of beauty, and the idols 
of the popular heart. In line before the enemy, with their bris- 
tling bayonets, they are the life-guard of their dear old mother, 
Virginia. 

The heart that does not thrill at sight of the worn veterans, is 
cold indeed. To him who writes, they present a spectacle noble 
and heroic ; and their old tattered, ball-pierced flag is the sacred 
ensign of liberty. 

Their history and all about them is familiar to me. I have 
seen them going into action — after fighting four battles in five 
days — with the regularity and well dressed front of holiday 
soldiers on parade. There was no straggling, no lagging; everj^ 
man stood to his work, and advanced with the steady tramp of 
the true soldier. The ranks were thin, and the faces travel-worn ; 
but the old flag floated in the winds of the Potomac as defiantly 
as on the banks of the Shenandoah. That bullet-torn ensign 
might have been written all over, on both sides, with the names 
of battles, and the list have then been incomplete. Manassas, 
Winchester, Kernstown, Front Royal, Port Republic, Cold Har- 
bour, Malvern Hill, Slaughter Mountain, Bristow Station,Grove- 
ton — Ox Hill, Sharpsburg, Fredericksburg, were to follow. And 
these were but the larger names upon the roll of their glory. 
The numberless engagements of minor character are omitted ; 
but in these I have mentioned they appear to the world, and 
sufficiently vindicate their claim to the title of heroes. 

I seemed to see those names upon their flag as the old brigade 



388 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

advanced that day, and my whole heart went to greet them, as 
it had gone forth to meet and greet the brave youth whom I spoke 
to just before the battle, by the roadside, where he lay faint and 
weak but resolute and smiling. "''■ 

Whatever be the issue of the conflict, these brave spirits will 
be honoured, and held dear by all who love real truth and 
worth and courage. Wherever they sleep — amid the Alleghaneys, 
or by the Potomac, in the fields of Maryland, or the valleys 
and lowlands of Virginia — they are holy. Those I knew the best 
and loved most of all, sleep now or will slumber soon beneath 
the weeping willow of the Old Chapel graveyard in the Valley. 
There let them rest amid tears, but laurel-crowned. They sleep, 
but are not dead, for they are immortal. 

* The brave Lieutenant Robert Randolph. " Requiescat in pace ! " 



1 



VIII. 
ANMLS OF '^THE THIRl);' 



I. 

Sad but pleasing are the memories of the past ! Gay and gro- 
tesque as well as sorrowful and sombre, are the recollections of 
the "old soldiers " who, in the months of 1861, marched to the 
rolling drum of Beauregard ! 

At that time the present writer was a Sergeant of Artillery, to 
which high rank he had been promoted from the position of 
private: and the remembrance of those days when he was uni- 
formly spoken to as "Sergeant" is by no means unpleasing. 
The contrary is the fact. In those " callow days " the war was a 
mere frolic — the dark hours were yet unborn, when all the sky 
was over-shadowed, the land full of desolation — in the radiant 
sunshine of the moment it was the amusing and grotesque phase 
of the situation that impressed us, not the tragic. 

The post of Sergeant may not be regarded as a very lofty one, 
compared with that of field or general officers, but it has its ad- 
vantages and its dignity. The Sergeant of Artillery is " Chief 
of Piece " — that is to say, he commands a gun, and gun-detach- 
ment: and from the peculiar organization of the artillery, his 
rank assimilates itself to that of Captain in an infantry regiment. 
He supervises his gun, his detachment, his horse picket, and is 
responsible for all. He is treated by the officer in command with 
due consideration and respect. A horse is supplied to him. He 
is, to all intents and purposes, a commissioned officer. 

But the purpose of the writer is not to compose an essay upon 
military rank. From the Sergeant let us pass to the detachment 



390 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

which he commanded. They were a gay and jovial set — those 
young gentlemen of the " Third Detachment" — for they were for 
the most part youths of gentle nurture and liberal education, 
who had volunteered at the first note of the bugle. They fought 
hard to the end of the war, but in camp they were not energetic. 
Guard duty and horse-grooming were abominable in their eyes ; 
and the only pursuits to which I ever saw them apply themselves 
with activity and energy were visiting young ladies, and smok- 
ing pipes. From this it may be understood that they were bad 
material for " common soldiers," in the European acceptation of 
the term ; and their " Chief" was accustomed to appeal rather to 
their sense of propriety than the fear of military punishment. 
The appeal was perfectly successful. When off duty, he mag- 
nanimously permitted them to do what they chose; signed all 
their passports without looking at them ; and found them the 
most orderly and manageable of soldiers. They obeyed his or- 
ders when on duty, with energy and precision : were ready with 
the gun at any alarm before all the rest, the commanding officer 
was once pleased to say ; and treated their Chief with a kindness 
and consideration mingled, which he still remembers with true 
pleasure. 

The battery was known as the " Revolutionary Ducks." This 
sobriquet requires explanation, and that explanation is here 
given. When John Brown, the celebrated Harper's Ferry 
"Martyr," made his onslaught, everything throughout Virginia 
was in commotion. It was said that the " Martyr " and his band 
were only the advance guard of an army coming from Ohio. At 
this intelligence the battery — ^^then being organized in Richmond 
by the brave George W. Randolph, afterwards General, and Sec- 
retary of War — rushed quickly to arms : that is, to some old 
muskets in the armory, their artillery armament not having been 
obtained as 3^et. Then commanded by the General to be, they 
set out joyously for Harper's Ferry, intent on heading off the 
army from Ohio, In due time they landed from the boat in 
Washington, were greeted by a curious and laughing crowd, 
and from the crowd was heard a voice exclaiming, " Here's your 
Revolutionary Ducks!" The person who had uttered this se- 



ANNALS OF "THE THIRD." 391 

vere criticism of the ununiformed and somewhat travel-worn 
warriors was soon discovered to be an irreverent hacknian ; but 
the nick-name made the youthful soldiers laugh — thej accepted 
it. They were thenceforth known to all their friends and ac- 
quaintances as the " Eevolutionary Ducks." 

The Revolutionnaires marched to Manassas at the end of May, 
1861, and a few days after their arrival one of the South Caro- 
linians camped there, asked me if I had " seen the little General," 
meaning General Beauregard, who had just assumed command. 
The little General visited the battery, and soon dispatched it with 
his advance-force under Bonham to Fairfax Court- House, where it 
remained camped on a grassy slope until the middle of July, 
when it came away with unseemly haste. In flict, a column of 
about fifty-five thousand blue-coats were after it ; and the " Third 
Detachment," with their gun, had a narrow escape. They were 
posted, solus, near the village of Germantown, with the trees cut 
down, four hundred and thirty yards by measurement, in front 
to afford range for the fire. Here they awaited with cheerfulness 
the advance of the small Federal force, until a horseman galloped 
up with, " Gentlemen ! the enemy are upon you," which was 
speedily followed by the appearance of Mue uniforms in the wood 
in front. The infantry supports were already double-quicking 
to the rear. The odds of fifty-five thousand against twentj^-five 
was too great for the " Third ; " and they accordingly limbered 
to the rear, retiring with more haste than dignity. A friend had 
seen the huge blue column passing from Flint Hill toward Ger- 
mantown, and had exclaimed with tragic pathos that the present 
historian was " gone." He was truly " gone " when the enemy 
arrived — gone from that redoubt and destined to be hungry and 
outflanked at Centreville. 

The Bevolutionnaires had but an insignificant part in the great 
battle of Manassas. The " little General " intended them to bear 
the brunt, and placed them in the centre at Mitchell's Ford. From 
this position they saw the splendid spectacle of the Federal 
Cavalry dividing right and left to unmask the artillery which 
speedily opened hotly — but beyond this shelling they were not 
assailed. Caissons blew up all around, and trees crashed down ; 



392 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

but the blue infantry did not charge the breastworks. Then 
Beauregard resolved to advance himself with the Eevolu- 
tionnaires and Bonham straight on Centreville, and sent the order 
— but it never arrived. Thus the " Third " was cheated of the 
glory w;hich they would have won in this great movement ; and 
despite the shells which burst for four days in the trenches, they 
are not entitled to inscribe " Manassas " on their flag. 

Two days after the battle they were ordered to advance with 
General Bonham to Vienna. All obeyed but the " Third," which 
being seized with a violent desire to go to Alexandria instead of 
Vienna, gave the rest the slip, joined Colonel Jeb Stuart's column 
of cavalry and infantry, going toward Fairfax, and never stop- 
ped until they reached that village, wherein they had made a 
number of most charming friends. They made their reentrance 
amid waving handkerchiefs from the friends alluded to, and 
cheering joyously — but were speedily desired to explain their pre- 
sence in the column of Colonel Stuart, who thus found himself in 
command of a surplus gun, of which he knew nothing. The pre- 
sent writer at once repaired to the Colonel's headquarters, which 
consisted of a red blanket spread under an oak. explained the 
wishes of the " Third," and begged permission to accompany 
him to Washington. The young Colonel smiled : he was evi- 
dently pleased. We should go, he declared — he required artillery, 
and would have it. The " Chief" received this reply with ex- 
treme satisfaction ; put his gun in battery to rake the approach 
from Annandale; and was just retiring to his blanket, with the 
luxury of a good conscience, when an order came from General 
Bonham to repair with the gun, before morning, to Vienna ! The 
General ranked the Colonel : more still, the gun was a part of the 
General's command. With heavy hearts the '' Third " set out 
through the darkness for the village to which they were ordered. 

As the writer is not composing a log-book of his voyages 
through those early seas, he will only say that at Vienna the 
Revolutionnaires saw for the first time the enemy's balloons hover- 
ing above the woods ; turned out more than once, with ardour, 
when Bonham's pickets fired into Stuart's ; and smoked their 
pipes with an assiduity that was worthy of high commendation. 



ANNALS OF "THE THIRD." 893 

Soon tlie order came to move ; tbey hung their knapsacks with 
energy upon the guns, for the horses to pull, and thus returned 
to Centreville, where they were ordered to join the hard-fight- 
ing Colonel Evans at Leesburg. 

At the name of Leesburg, every hear'„ of the " Noble Third " 
still beating, will beat faster. Leesburg ! Paradise of the youth- 
full warrior ! dear still to the heart of him who writes, and to all 
his brave companions ! Land of excellent edibles, and beautiful 
maidens! of eggs and romance, of good dinners and lovely 
faces! No sooner had the ardent cannoneers reached camp, and 
pitched their tents, than they hastened into Leesburg to " spy 
out the land." The reconnoissance was eminently satisfactory. 
The report brought back by the scouts thus thrown forward, repre- 
sented the place as occupied in force by an enemy of the most 
attractive description — and from that time to the period of their 
abrupt departure, the brave 3'Oung artillerists were engaged in 
continuous skirmishes with their fair faces, not seldom to their 
own discomfiture. 

When the " Third " with another detachment went to camp at 
Big Spring, in a beautiful grove, they applied themselves to the 
military duties above specified with astonishing ardor. The 
number of horses which required shoeing at the blacksmith's ill 
town was incredible ; and such was their anxiety to rush to 
combat, that the young soldiers surreptitiously knocked shoes 
from the horses' feet, to be " ordered to the front," toward the 
foe. 

The Bevolutionnaires had a little skirmish about this time with 
the Federal force at White's Ferry, and the " Third " had the sat- 
isfaction of setting a house or barn on fire with shell, and burst- 
ing others in the midst of a blue regiment. These exploits were 
performed with a loss of one man only, wounded by sharpshoot- 
ers ; the " Third " having dodged the rest of the enemy's bullets 
with entire success. They were highly pleased with the result 
of the combat, and soon afterwards were called to new fields of 
glory. This time the locality was at Loudoun Heights, opposite 
Harper's Ferry ; and having dragged their gun up the rugged 
mountain road with great difficulty, they opened from the sum- 



394 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

mit at the moment when the brave Ashby charged. The result 
■was cheering. Ashby sent word that the shells were falling 
among his own troops, but directed the fire to proceed — it was 
admirable : and thus encouraged, the " Third " continued at their 
post until the enemy's batteries on Maryland Heights had gotten 
our range, and their rifle shell began to tear the ground near by. 
Concluding that the distance was too great to render a reply 
necessary, the " Third " came away soon after this — but the order 
to retire had been previously given, and the piece did not move 
ofif at a faster gait than a rapid trot — it might have been a gallop. 

This little affair was in October, and on our return to Leesburg 
the enemy were preparing to cross and attack us. General Evans 
put on the road to Edwards' Ferry all the guns, with the ex- 
ception of the " Third," which was sent with the Eighth Virginia 
regiment to repel an assault from Greneral McCall, who was ap- 
proaching Goose Creek, on our right, with a Division, and twelve 
pieces of artillery. The " Third " undertook this with alacrity, 
and remained in position at the " Burnt Bridge" with ardour, 
hoping that the enemy would have the temerity to approach. 
He did not do so, and at mid-day General Evans sent down for 
the regiment and the gun, and ordered them at " double-quick " 
and " trot-march " to the vicinit}^ of Ball's Bluff. The regiment 
— the Eighth Virginia — was ordered to " drive the enemy from 
those woods," and the " Third " was directed to open fire, " when 
the Eighth fell back." Owing to the circumstance that the 
Eighth never fell back, this order was not carried out, and the 
Revolutionnaires in general had no part in one of the most des- 
perate and gallant battles of the whole war. For the second 
time they were held in reserve, in a great combat, and they 
chafed at it: but the enemy in Leesburg remained to be con- 
quered, and after the battle, they immediately commenced attend- 
ing to the deficiency of horseshoes as before. 

These raids upon the territory of the foe were now made from 
their camp ajt "Fort Evans," on the hill. Fort Evans was on 
the top of a commanding eminence. Looking northward, you 
beheld the winding Potomac, and on the upland beyond, were 
seen the tents of the enemy, and their watch-fires at night — their 



ANNALS OF " THE THIRD." 395 

tattoo and reveille being heard distinctly, and affording an eco- 
nomical measurement of time to their foes. East, south, and 
west, was a beautiful country of field, and forest, and meadow, 
and hill — and Leesburg rose with its white houses and spires, in 
the midst of it, about a mile away. 

Thus the Revolutionnaires had around them all the elements 
of comfort. An enemy to reconnoitre through spy-glasses, across 
the river, and another enemy in the town to keep up a brisk as- 
sault upon. Many "solitary horsemen" were seen at sunset and 
other hours, dotting the road which led to the borough ; — and 
these returned in various moods, as " the day " had been adverse 
or triumphal for them. They delivered battle with astonishing 
regularity, and looked after the shoeing of the artillery horses 
with an efficiency which reflected the highest credit on the 
corps. 

In the performance of this duty the " Third " was not behind 
its companions — indeed took the lead. To smoke pipes and at- 
tack the enemy in Leesburg were the chosen occupations of the 
"Third." To dress in full costume for battle — with white col- 
lar, and dress uniform — seemed indeed the chief happiness of 
these ardent young warriors: and then they lost no time in ad- 
vancing upon the foe. When circumstances compelled them to 
remain inactive at Fort Evans for a day or days, they grew mel- 
ancholy and depressed. Their pipes still sent up white clouds of 
smoke — but the ashes were strewed upon their heads. 

"Fort Evans" was not an inspiring locality. The view was 
superb ; but the wind always blowing there, nearh'- removed the 
hair from the head, and the mud was of incredible depth and 
tenacity. In addition to this, Fort Evans got all the rain and 
snow. But these were provided against. A distinguished trait 
of the Revolutionnaires was a strong propensity for making them- 
selves comfortable ; and they soon discovered that, in winter at 
least, tents were vanity and vexation of body. From the real- 
ization of the want, there was only a step to the resolution to 
supply it. They cut down trees, and hauled the logs ; tore 
down deserted houses, and brought away the plank ; carried off 
old stoves, and war-worn tables, and then set to work. A log 



396 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

hat rose suddenly — the abode of the "Brigand of the Cliff," 
who was a most excellent companion and uncommonly jovial 
for a bandit — many plank cabins were grouped near it, stoves 
were set up, log chimneys built, and the bold Revolutionnaires 
were in winter quarters. 

Fort Evans was in process of construction anew, under the 
supervision of General D. H. Hill — and the workmen were en- 
couraged by the presence and approval of the " Third " and 
their companions. They rarely failed to visit it several times a 
day ; and generously instructed General Hill's engineer how to 
lay it out without charge. They did not mind the deep mud, 
and perseveringly remained for hours, looking on while the in- 
fantry " detail " worked. Personne, one of the " Third," super- 
intended the filling and revetting — and it was whispered around 
that the General had assured him that "This work would remain 
to speak of him." At this the worthy Personne is said to have 
smiled as only he could smile. He no doubt does so still. 

In these virtuous and useful occupations — mingled with much 
smoking, and close attention to horseshoes — the hours and days 
sped away, there near Leesburg, in the fall and winter of the 
good year 1861. Posted on the far Potomac there, to guard the 
frontier, the " Third " and their companions had a large amount 
of time upon their hands which it was necessary to dispose of. 
Sometimes the enemy opposite amused them — as when they ran 
a gun down to the river, and in a spirit of careless enjoyment, 
knocked a hole with a round shot in the gable end of the abode 
of the " Brigand of the Cliff." But these lively moments were 
the exception. The days generally passed by without incident ; 
and when debarred from visiting Leesburg, the Revoluiionnaires 
visited each other. -^ 

Among gentlemen so well-bred as themselves there was no 
neglect of the amenities of life. You never entered a cabin, but 
the owner rose and offered you the best seat. You never got 
up to depart, but you were feelingly interrogated as to the occa- 
sion of your " hurry," and exhorted to remain. If boxes came 
from home, their contents were magnanimously distributed ; 
when anybody got leave of absence, which was exceedingly 



ANKALS OF "THE THIRD." 397 

seldom, his return was greeted with acclamations — perhaps be- 
cause the transaction was a good precedent. Lounging was the 
habitual amusement, except when they aroused themselves to 
contend with the enemy — at Leesburg. The town was their 
favourite arena for combat. They delighted to visit, and early 
established a dining acquaintance there — selecting those houses 
where, between the courses, they could gaze into fair eyes, and 
" tempt their fate," "When they returned after these expeditions 
in search of horseshoes, they revelled in descriptions of ham 
and turkey and dessert — making ration-beef tougher, and camp 
flat-cake more like lead than ever. On the main street of Lees- 
burg, near Pickett's tavern, the " Third " especially congregated. 
They wore the snowiest shirt bosoms, the bluest gray jackets, 
and the reddest cuffs imaginable. Thus armed to the teeth, and 
clad for war and conquest, they would separate in search of 
young ladies, and return at evening with the most glowing ac- 
counts of their adventures. 



IL 

A glance at the headquarters of the " Third," and a brief 
notice of one of those worthies, may prove of interest to the de- 
scendants of these doughty Revolutionnaires. 

They dwelt in three or four cabins of considerable size, con- 
structed of plank — the middle and largest one being the head- 
quarters of their commander. These cabins were warmed by 
old stoves, obtained on the Eob Roy principle from deserted 
houses ; and were fitted up with berths, popularly known as 
" bunks," filled with straw. The space above the cornice afford- 
ed an excellent shelf for clothes, which were then economically 
washed whenever it rained — but the great feature of the head- 
quarter mansion was the crevice at the summit of the roof. 
This permitted the smoke to escape without difficulty, and on 
windy nights when others were suffering, ventilated the apart- 
ment superbly. Nor did the advantages stop there. The crev- 
ice was no mere crack, but. an honest opening; and when a 



398 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

snow-storm came on, the snow entered without difficulty, driving 
downward, and enveloping the sleepers in its close white mantle. 
As the warmth which snow communicates to a sleeper is well 
known, this circumstance will be duly appreciated. 

From the headquarters let us pass to the inhabitants. The 
" Third," as I have said, were a gay and social set, and possessed 
of many peculiarities, which their " Chief," sitting apart with a 
borrowed volume (from Leesburg) in his hand, was accustomed 
to watch with a covert smile. A marked feature of the young 
warriors was their devotion to the habit of eating. Rations 
were ample and excellent then, but they did not satisfy the 
youths. They foraged persistently : brought back eggs, butter, 
pies, every delicacy ; and these they as persistently consumed. 
They always ate butter all day long, toasting slices of bread 
upon the roaring stove with a perseverance that was truly ad- 
mirable. The announcement of dinner by the polite mulatto 
who officiated as cook, was uniformly received with rapture ; 
and the appearance of a " box from home " supplied the for- 
tunate possessor with the largest and most affectionate circle of 
visiting friends. 

Among the " characters " of the detachment. Corporal Per- 
sonne, my gunner — he who superintended the construction of 
the breastworks — occupied a prominent place. He was tall and 
gaunt, with a portentous moustache ; had the imposing air of a 
Field-Marshal on parade, and a fund of odd humour that was 
inexhaustible. To hear Personne laugh was to experience an 
irresistible desire to do likewise ; to listen while he talked was 
better than to attend a theatrical performance. Personne rarely 
relaxed into that commonplace deportment which characterizes 
the great mass of dull humanity. He could not have been dull 
even if he had tried, and his very melancholy was humorous. 
In his tone of voice and hearing he was sui generis — " whole in 
himself and due to none." All his utterances were solemn and 
impressive ; his air deeply serious — when he laughed he seemed 
to do so under protest. He generally went away after laugh- 
ing ; no doubt to mourn over his levity in private. One of 
Personne's peculiarities was a very great fondness for cant 



ANNALS OF "THE THIRD." 399 

phrases, and odd turns of expression. These afforded him undis- 
guised delight, and he handled them with the air of a master. 
He was never known to ask for smoking totacco in any other 
words than, " Produce the damned invention ! " which he uttered 
with a truly terrific scowl, and an accent of wrath which was 
calculated to strike terrour to the stoutest heart. A form of 
logic in which he evidently reposed the fullest faith was, " An 
ought's an ought — a figure's a figure — therefore you owe me a 
dollar and a half; " and another mysterious phrase, " Speak to 
me, Gimlet," was a fund of unending enjoyment to him. His 
comparison of distance was, " As far as a blue-winged pigeon 
can fly in six months ; " his measure of cold was, " Cold enough 
to freeze the brass ears on a tin monkey ; " his favourite oath, 
"Now, by the gods who dwell on high Olympus!" and his 
desire for a furlough was uniformly urged upon the ground that 
he wished to " go home and see his first wife's relations." 

Personne was thus the victim of a depraved taste for slang, 
but he was a scholar and a gentleman — a travelled man and a 
very elegant writer. When the war broke out he was residing 
in New York ; but at the call of Virginia, his native State, he 
had left all the delights of Broadway and the opera ; abandoned 
bright waistcoats, gay neckties, and fine boots, to put on the 
regulation gray, and go campaigning with the Bevolutionnaires. 
The contrast was great, but Personne did not grumble ; he 
adapted himself to his new sphere with the air of a philospher. 
It was only at long intervals that he spoke of his travels — onl}' 
occasionally that he broke forth with some opera air heard at the 
Academy of Music, and now hummed with great taste and deli- 
cacy. He supplied the stage action to these musical airs, but 
his powers in that department were defective. The perform- 
ance, it is sufficient to say, would have done honour to a — wind- 
mill. 

To witness Personne in the character of "Sergeant of the 
Guard " was a superb spectacle. The stern and resolute air 
with which he marshalled his guard ; the hoarse and solemn 
tones in which he called the roll ; the fierce determination with 
which he took command, and marched them to their post, was 



400 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

enough to " tickle the ribs of death." Once having posted them, 
Personne returned as solemnly to his quarters, from which soon 
afterwards would be heard his low guttural laugh. The great 
tableau, however, was Personne in Leesburg, mounted. He 
was a' study at such moments, and attracted general attention. 
He sat sternly erect upon his horse, never indulged in a smile 
even, and had the air of a Field-Marshal at the head of an army. 
It was only when he entered the presence of the ladies that his 
brows unbent, his features relaxed. With these he was a very 
great favourite, and he cultivated their regard in a manner 
which exhibited a profound knowledge of human nature. A 
proof of this assertion is here given. One day Personne, with a 
friend of his, went forth on a foraging expedition, rations run- 
ning low, and appetite rising. But the neighbourhood had 
been ransacked by a whole brigade, and by what device could 
they operate upon the female heart ? Personne found the device 
he wished, and proceeded to execute it, having first drilled his 
friend in the part assigned him. Before them was a modest 
mansion ; through the window were seen the faces of young 
ladies ; the friends entered the yard, bowed politely, and lay 
down upon the grass. Then the following dialogue took place 
in the hearing of the ladies : 

Personne, carelessly. — " A charming day, my friend ; hum — 
wh^t were you saying ? " 

Friend, toith deference. — " I was saying, Mr. Personne, that the 
remarkable feature in the present war is the rank and character 
of the men who have embarked in it — on the Southern side — as 
privates. Take yourself, for instance. You belong to one of the 
first families of Mississippi ; you have three or four plantations : 
you are worth very nearly half a million of dollars — and here 
you are, serving in the ranks as a private soldier." 

Personne, xoitli an air of careless grandeur. — " No matter ! no 
matter ! The cause is everything. My estates must take care 
of themselves for the present, and I expect to live hard and fight 
hard, and starve — as we are doing to-day, my friend. When 
the war is over, things will be different. I intend to enjoy my- 
self, to live in luxury — above all, to marry some charming 



ANNALS OF "THE THIRD." 401 

creature — and I am now looking out for one to suit me. I do 
not ask riches, my friend ; a plain country girl would please 
me best — one who is warm-hearted and kind to the soldier ! " 

A few moments afterwards a smiling face appeared at the 
door ; a pair of female lips said, " Walk in, gentlemen ; " and 
starting from a deep reverie into which he had fallen, Personne 
rose, bowed, and accepted the invitation, bowing low again 
as he entered, with his lofty air of 5^eld-Marshal. Is it necessary 
to continue the narrative, to say that Personne and his friend 
nearly produced a famine, and when they retired had their 
haversacks filled with every delicacy? It was only when well 
beyond earshot that he laughed his low laugh, and exclaimed 
with solemn earnestness, " Now by the gods that dwell on high 
Olympus ! — we are in luck to-day ! " 

Such was Personne, the pride of the " Third," the object of 
the admiring affection and regard of all the Revolutionnaires ! 
The writer designed drawing more than one additional portrait of 
odd characters in his old detachment, but the figure of Personne 
has pushed all others from the canvas — the brush moves in the 
air. That canvas, it may be, perchance, is already too exten- 
sive ; not every one will find in these familiar recollections of the 
" Third " that interest which the writer does ; and terrible is the 
crime of producing yawns ! Do you think you never wearied 
anybody, my dear reader, with your recollections ? Do you fancy 
that your past amuses others as it amuses you ? But, for fear this 
mass of logic will rebound upon the head of him who sets it 
in motion, the " Annals of the Third " are here concluded. 

As he closes up those Annals, and sets forward on his way, 
the writer waves his hat in friendly farewell, salutes each one, 
and calls out, " Grood-by, Personne ! — good-by, warriors of the 
' Noble Third ! ' — all health and happiness attend you in the 
coming years ! — and never call your old commander anything 
but ' Sergeant ! ' " 

26 



IX. 

BLUNDERBUS ON PICKET. 



Scene. — Banks of the Rappahannock^ in the winter of 1862-3 ; a 
camp fire blazing under an oak, and Captain Blunderhus con- 
versing with a Staff Officer on inspection duty — the picket stationed 
near, and opposite the enemy. 

Blunderbus loquitur. — " This is pleasant — picketing always 
is. Uncommonly dark, however — the night black but comely, 
and that frosty moon yonder trying to shine, and dance on the 
ripples of the river ! Don't you think it would look better if 
you saw it fi'om the porch at home, with Mary or Fanny by 
3^our side ? 

" Picturesque, but not warm. Pile on the rails, my boy ; never 
mind the expense. The Confederacy pays — or don't pay — for 
all the fences ; and nothing warms the feet, expands the soul, 
and makes the spirits cheerful like a good rail-fire, I was reading 
in an old paper, the other day, some poetry-writing which they 
said was found on the body of one of Stonewall's sergeants at 
Winchester — a song he called 'Jackson's Way.' He tells his 
comrades to 'pile on the rails,' and says, 

" ' No matter if the canteen fails, 
We'll make a roaring light I ' 

Sensible — and speaking of canteens, is there anything in yours, 
my boy ? Nothing. Such is fate ! 

" I was born unlucky, and always will be so. Now a drop of 
brandy would not have been bad to-night ; or say a mouthful 



BLUNDERBUS ON PICKET. 403 

of whiskey, or a little apple or peach-brandy, gin, madeira, 
sherry, claret, or even bottled porter, crab-cider or champagne ! 
Any of these would have communicated a charm to existence, 
which — wanting them — it lacks. 

" But let us be content with what we have, and accept all for- 
tunes as they come ! If ever you hear people say that Blunder- 
bus is a mere trooper, old fellow — that he cares for nothing but 
eating and drinking, and sleeping — just tell 'em you heard him 
express that fine sentiment, and they will think better of him. 
You see I'm a philosopher, like yourself, and I don't let trifles 
get the better of me. Tl^e soul superior to misfortune is a noble 
spectacle, and warms the heart of the beholder like generous 
wine. I wish I had some. 

" I think, however, I prefer this water. Now that I observe it, 
it is excellent — with a body to it, a flavour, a sweetness, and 
stimulating effect which I never noticed before. And then our 
fire ! Just look at it! You're an old hand at rails, I'll be will- 
ing to bet — for you fix 'em on the fire with the art of a master. 
What a glorious sight to see ! How it warms the soul ! 

" I observe that the Yankee pickets over yonder have a miser- 
able fire — made of green wood, doubtless, and smouldering. I 
was looking at them just now through my glass, and I am glad 
to say one of the blue-coats was slapping his arms violently 
against his breast to keep up the circulation. Pleasant ; for if 
anything can increase the comfort of a fire like this, it is the 
consciousness that our friends over the way are shivering by 
one that won't burn. 

" I believe I will smoke. Toothing assists intellectual conversa- 
tion like a pipe. Help yourself. You will find that pouch — 
Yankee plunder from Manassas last August — full of the real 
article, and the best you ever smoked. It is real, pure Lynch- 
burg — brown, free from stems, and perfumed with the native 
aroma of the weed. Smoke, guest of mine ! That brand is 
warranted to drive off all blue-devils — to wrap the soul in Elysian 
dreams of real Java coffee, English boots, French wines, and no 
blockade. There are men, I am told, who don't smoke. I pity 
'em ! How do they sustain existence, or talk or think ? All 



404. WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

real philosophers use the magical weed ; and I always thought 
Ealeigh, when I used to read about him, the most sensible man 
of his time, because he smoked. I have no doubt Shakespeare 
carried a pipe about, and wrote his plays with it in his mouth. 

" ril trouble you to hand me that chunk when you are done 
with it. Thank 3'ou. Now the summit glows ; the mysterious 
depths are illumined. All right; I am lit. 

" This is soothing ; all care departs when you smoke a good 
pipe. Existence assumes a smiling and bright aspect ; all things 
are rose-coloured. I find my spirits rising, my sympathies ex- 
panding, even until they embrace the whole Yankee nation. 
This is an excellent root I am leaning my back against — I never 
knew a rocking-chair more agreeable. Our fire is magnificent ; 
and observe the picturesque effect of the enemy's blaze reflected 
in the stream ! 

"The enemy! Who knows if that is fair? Perhaps that 
good fellow over there, who was slapping his arms, I am sorry 
to say, just now, by way of restoring the circulation and keeping 
himself warm, came here to fight us against his will ! Honest 
fellows ! who blames them ? They are unfortunate, and I sym- 
pathize with them. I observe that the fire over yonder, which 
our friends have kindled, burns feebly, and doubtless is fed with 
green wood. We could spare them a few rails, eh ? But then 
to communicate with them is against orders. 

" I believe they come down here from pure curiosity, and 
rather like to be taken prisoner. But it takes a good deal to 
feed them. We want all our provisions. Often I have been 
nearly starved, and I assure you starving is a disagreeable j)ro- 
cess, I have tried it several times, and I can tell you where I 
first experienced the sensation in full force. At Manassas, in 
July, 1861. 

"I was in the artillery then, and had command of a gun, 
which gun was attached to a battery, which battery was a part 
of General Bonham's brigade. Now General Bonham com- 
rtianded the advance force of Beauregard's army, and was sta- 
tioned at the village of Fairfax. Well, we had a gay time at 
Fairfax in those early months of the war, playing at soldiering, 



BLUNDERBUS ON PICKET. 405 

and laughing at the enemy for not advancing. The red cuffs of 
the artillery, the yellow of the cavalry, and the blue of the infan- 
try, were all popular in the eyes of the village beauties, and 
rarely did anything of a melancholy character interfere with our 
pleasures. Sometimes a cavalry-man would be shot on picket — 
as we may be to-night, old fellow ; and I remember once a 
noble boy of the 'Black Horse,' or Eadford's regiment, was 
brought back dead, wrapped in an oil-cloth which his sister had 
taken from her piano and given him to sleep on. Poor thing ! 
she must have cried when she heard of that ; but there has been 
a good deal of crying during the present war. 

" Kick that rail-end up. It makes me melancholy to see a fire 
dying down. Well, we had a pleasant time in the small village 
of Fairfax, until one July day my gun was ordered to a breast- 
work not far off, and I heard that the ' Grand Army ' was 
coming. Now I was thinking about the Commissary depart- 
ment when I heard this news, for we had had nothing to eat for 
a day nearly ; but I went to M'ork, finishing the embrasure for 
my piece. Bags marked ' The Confederate States ' were filled 
with sand and piled up skilfully ; trees obstructing the range 
were chopped down rapidly ; and then, stepping off the ground 
from the earthwork to the woods from which the enemy would 
issue, I had the pleasure of perceiving that the foe would be 
compelled to pass over at least four hundred and thirty yards 
before reaching me with the bayonet. Now in four hundred 
and thirty yards you can fire, before an enemy gets up to you, 
about one round of solid shot, and two rounds of canister — say 
three of canister. I depended, therefore, upon three rounds of 
canister to drive back the Grand Army, and undertook it with 
alacrity. I continued hungry, however, and grew hungrier as 
night fell, on the 16th July. 

" At daylight I was waked by guns in front, and found my- 
self hungrier than ever. At sunrise a gentleman on a white 
horse passed by at a gallop, with the cheerful words : ' Gentle- 
men, the enemy are upon you ! ' and the cannoneers were ranged 
at the gun, with the infantry support disposed upon the flanks. 
All was ready, the piece loaded, the lanyard-hook passed 



406 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

through the ring of the primer, and the sharpshooters of the 
enemy had appeared on the edge of the woods, when they sent 
us an order to retire. We accordingly retired, and continued to 
retire until we reached Centreville, halting on the hill there. 
We "were posted in battery there, and lay down — very hungry. 
A cracker I had borrowed did not allay hunger; and had a 
dozen Yankees been drawn up between me and a hot supper, I 
should have charged them with the spirit of Winkelreid, when 
he swept the Austrian spears in his embrace, and * made a gap 
for liberty.' 

" We did not fight there, however.; we were only carrying out 
General Beauregard's plan for drawing on the enemy to Bull 
Run, where he was ready for them. At midnight we limbered 
up, the infantry and cavalry began to move, blue and red signal 
rockets were thrown up, and the little army slowly retired before 
the enemy, reaching the southern bank of Bull Run at daylight. 
The Federals were close upon our heels, and about ten o'clock 
commenced the first fight there, the ' battle of the 18th.' 

" Now when I arrived at Bull Run, I was hungry enough to 
eat a wolf. I lay down on the wet ground, and thought of va- 
rious appetizing bills of fare. Visions of roast beef, coffee, juleps, 
and other Elysian things rose before my starving eyes ; and the 
first guns of the enemy, crashing their round shot through the 
trees overhead, scarcely attracted my attention. I grew hungrier 
and hungrier — things had grown to a desperate pitch, when — beau- 
tiful even in the eyes of memory ! — an African appeared from our 
wagons in the rear with hot coffee, and broiled bacon, and flat-cake, 
yet hot from the oven ! At the same moment a friend, who had 
stolen oflf to the wagons, made an imperceptible gesture, and indi- 
cating his tin canteen, gave me an inquiring look. In the service 
this pantomime always expresses a willingness to drink your 
health and pass the bottle. I so understood it — and retiring from 
the crowd, swallowed a mouthful of the liquid. It was excellent 
whiskey, and my faintness from hunger and exhaustion made 
the effect magical. New life and strength filled my frame — and 
turning round, I was saluted by an excellent breakfast held out 
to me by the venerable old African cook ! 



BLUNDERBUS ON" PICKET. 407 

" Ye gods 1 how that breakfast tasted ! The animal from 
which that ham was cut must surely have been fattened on am- 
brosia ; and the hot, black coffee was a tin cup full of nectar in 
disguise ! When I had finished that meal I was a man again. 
I had been in a dangerous mood before — my patriotism had 
cooled, my convictions were shaken. I had doubted of the Re- 
public, and thought the Confederacy in the wrong, perhaps. But 
now all was changed. From that moment I was a true South- 
erner again, and my opinions had the genuine ring of the true 
Southern metal. I went into the battle with a joyous soul — 
burning with love of my native land, and resolved to conquer or 
die! 

" I wish I could get at that bill of fare to-night. Hunger sours 
the temper — men grow unamiable under it. Hand me that car- 
bine — it is not more than four hundred yards to the picket 
across yonder, and I'll bet you I can put a bullet through that 
bluebird nodding over the fire. Against orders, do you say? 
Well, so it is ; but my fingers are itching to get at fhat carbine. 
" I'll trouble you to stick my pipe in the hot ashes by you, my 
friend. I am fixed here so comfortably with my back against 
this tree, that I hate the idea of getting up. You see I get lazy 
when I begin to smoke, old fellow ; and I think about so many 
things, that I don't like to break my reflections by moving. I 
have seen a good deal in this war, and I wish I was a writer to 
set it down on paper. You see if I don't, I am certain to forget 
everything, unless I live to eighty — and then when the young- 
sters, grandchildren, and all that (if I have any, which I doubt), 
gather around me, with mouths open, I will be certain to make 
myself out a tremendous warrior, which will be a lie ; for Blunder- 
bus is only an old Captain of Cavalry, good at few things but 
picketing. Besides, all the real colours of the war would be lost, 
things would be twisted and ruined ; if I could set 'em down now 
in a book, the world would know exactly how the truth was. 
Oh, that Blunderbus was an author ! 

" I have my doubts about the figure we will cut when the 
black-coats, who don't see the war, commence writing about us 
Just think what a mess they will make, old fellow ! They will 



408 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

be worse than Yankee Cavalry slashing right and left — much 
ink will be shed, but will the thing be history? I doubt it. 
You see, the books will be too elegant and dignified ; war is a 
rough, bloody trade, but they will gild it over like a looking- 
glass frame. I shouldn't wonder if they made me, Blunderbus, 
the old bear, a perfect 'carpet knight' — all airs, and graces, 
and attractions. If they do, they will write a tremendous lie, old 
fellow ! The way to paint me is rough, dirty, bearded, and hun- 
gry, and always growling at the Yankees. Especially hungry — 
the fact is, I am really wolfish to-night; and I see that blue ras- 
cal over yonder gnawing his rations and raising a black bottle to 
his lips ! Wretch ! — the thing is intolerable ; give me the car- 
bine — I'll stop him ! — cursed order that keeps me from stopping 
his amusement — the villain ! Who can keep his temper under 
trials like this. Sergeant ? " 

Sergeant of pickets advancing. — " Here, Captain." 
Blunderbus, scowling. — " Are all the men present? Call the 

roll — if anfi are missing " 

{The Sergeant calls the roll and returns to the fire.) 
Sergeant. — " All present but Tim Tickler, Captain." 
Blunderbus, enraged. — " Where is Tickler — the wretched 
Tickler ? " 

Tickler, hastening up. — " Here, Captain — present, Captain." 
Blunderbus, wrathful. — " So you are absent at roll-call ! So 
you shirk your duty on picket ! Sergeant, put this man to- 
morrow in a barrel shirt; on. the next ofience, buck him! 
What are you standing there for, villain ? " 

Tickler, producing a canteen. — " I don't bear malice, I don't. 
Captain. I just went to the house yonder, thinking the night 
was cold — for a few minutes only. Captain, being just relieved 
from post — to get a little bit to eat, and a drop of drink. Prime 
applejack. Captain ; taste it, barrel sftirt or no." 

(Tickler extends the canteen^ which Blunderbus takes, offers his 
friend, and drinks from.) 

Tickler, offering ham and bread. — " And here's a little prog, 
Captain." 

Blunderbus, calling to the Sergeant, who retires with Tickler. — 



BLUNDERBUS ON" PICKET. 409 

"Eemit Private Tickler's punishment, Sergeant; under tlie cir- 
cumstances he is excusable." 

Staff Officer. — " Ha, ha ! " 

Blunderbus, smiling. — "You may laugh, my friend; but 
applejack like that is no laughing matter. What expands the 
soul like meat, bread, and drink ? Do you think me capable of 
punishing that honest fellow? Never! My feelings are too 
amiable. I could hug the whole world at the present moment, 
even the Yanks yonder. Poor fellows ! I fear their fire is 
dying down, and they will freeze ; suppose we call across and 
invite them to come and "warm by our fire? They are not such 
bad fellows after all, my dear friend ; and Blunderbus will an- 
swer for their peaceful propensities. Nothing could tempt them 
to fire upon us — they are enemies alone from the ^rce of circum- 
stances!'''' 

{A stick rolls from the fire, and the carhine lying near is dis- 
charged. The enemy start to arms, and a shower of bullets whistles 
round, one from, a long-range Spencer rifle striking Blunderbus on 
the buckle of his sword belt, and knocking him literally heels over 
head.) 

Blunderbus, rising in a tremendous rage. — "Attention! fire 
on 'em ! Exterminate 'em ! Give it to the rascals hot and 
heavy, boys! Go it! Fire! {Bang! bang! bang I bang!) 
Pour it into 'em ! Another round ! That's the thing ! I saw 
one fall ! Hoop ! give 'em another, boys ! Hand me a car- 
bine ! " 

Staff Officer, from his post behind the oak. — " Ha ! ha I You 
are a philosopher, my dear Blunderbus, and a real peace mission- 
ary — but the ^ force of circumstances ' alters cases, eh ? " 

Blunderrus, sardonically. — " I rather think it does." 

{Staff Officer mounts, and continues his rounds, the fire having 
ceased, leaving Blunderbus swearing and rubbing the spot where he 
was struck.) 

Staff Officer, moving on. — " Good-night ! " 

Blunderbus, in the distance. — " Good-night ! Curse 'em." 



X. 

ADVENTURES OF DARRELL 



I. 

HOW pE TOOK Upton's hill. 

Captain Darrell comes to see me sometimes ; and as we are old 
companions in arms, we have a good many things to talk about. 

The Captain is a pleasant associate ; mild in his manners, and 
apparently much too amiable to hurt a fly. He is a terrible man 
after the enemy, however, and exhibits in partisan warfare the 
faculties of a great genius. His caution, his skill, his " combina- 
tions," are masterly ; — his elan in a charge or a skirmish is 
superb. Then only is the worthy Captain in his native element, 
and he rises to the height of the occasion without eflPort or diffi- 
culty. 

I am going to give some of his experiences in the service — to 
record some of his scouts and performances. Every hero should 
have his portrait first drawn, however ; — here is the Captain's : 

He is not yet thirty, and is of medium height and thickness. 
His frame is strongl}" knit, and his arm muscular. His counte- 
nance is a pleasant one ; his expression mild ; black hair, black 
moustache, black eyebrows, black eyes. He wears a dark sur- 
tout, cavalry boots, and a hat with a black feather. Around his 
waist he carries habitually a pistol belt with a revolver in it. In 
the field he adds a carbine or short rifle, and a sabre. His pistol 
and sabre were once the enemy's property — they are the spoil 
of his bow and spear. 



ADVENTURES OF DARRELL. 411 

I am going to let the Captain speak for himself. He is not 
given to talk about his experiences without provocation, and tltie 
reader must carefully guard against the injustice of supposing 
him a trumpeter of his own performances. He is wholly igno- 
rant of the fact that I am writing about him ; and all that I shall 
record was drawn from him by adroit prompting and questions. 
Averse to talk at first, and to make himself the centre of atten- 
tion among my visitors, he soon grew animated, and his ordinary 
somewhat listless demeanor was replaced by ardour and enthu- 
siasm. 

I had asked how many of the enemy he had killed in his career. 

"I don't know,'' he replied ; " I never counted them — a good 
many." 

" A dozen ? " 

" Ob, yes. I can remember six oflSicers. I never counted the 
men," 

" Where did you kill your first officer? " 

The Captain reflected — musing. 

" Let me see," he said; " yes, at Upton's Hill, just by Upton's 
house." 

"Tell me all about it?" 

The Captain smiled, and yawned. 

" Well," he said, "it was in the fall of '61, I think, or it might 
have been late summer." 

And leaning back, clasping his hands around his knees, he 
thus commenced. I give the narrative, as I design giving others, 
as nearly as possible in the words of the Captain : 

" It was in the fall of that year, I think, when General Stuart 
was below Fairfax, and the enemy occupied Munson's, Upton's, 
Hall's, and Mason's Hills. Our troops were at Falls Church, 
about two miles from Upton's Hill, and the enemy had pickets all 
along in front. I was then scouting around on my own respon- 
sibility, and used to go from one place to another, and get a shot 
at them whenever I could. The First South Carolina boys had 
often told me that I would get killed or wounded, and be taken 
and hung as a bushwhacker or spy ; but I was not afraid, as I 
had determined never to be taken alive. 



412 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

" At tlie time I speak of, we used to send three or four com- 
panies down to Falls Church on picket, to stay some days, and 
then they would be relieved by other companies. As I knew the 
whole country — every road and picket-post — the officers used to 
come to "me and get me to go with them, and show them the 
neighbourhood. General Longstreet, whose brigade was then in 
front, gave me a letter, which was my credential, and I posted all 
the pickets at the right places regularly. 

" One day it occurred to me that I could take and hold 
Upton's Hill, if I had the right sort of men ; and I offered, if 
they would give me a detail, to attempt it. Major Skinner, of 
the First Virginia, was officer of the day, and he agreed ; and 
Captain Simpson, of the Seventeenth Virginia, offered me as 
many men as I required. I thought I would only take a small 
scouting party first, however, and I picked out four men whom 
I knew. My intention was to creep up, make a sudden rush on 
the picket on Upton's Hill, and capture it, and hold the hill 
until the enemy advanced ; if I was not reinforced I would retire 
again. "Well, I got the men, all good fellows for that sort of 
work, and we set out about nine o'clock at night on our expedi- 
tion. The night was very dark, and you could not see the road 
before you ; but I knew every foot of the ground, and had no 
difficulty on that score. We stopped at a house on the way, 
where we found two negroes ; but they could give me no infor- 
mation, and I pushed on in silence toward Upton's house, where 
the Yankee picket was always stationed. 

" Just in front of the house there is a tree, you may have 
noticed, which we could see easily from Taylor's Hill, where our 
picket was — about eight hundred yards off — and the men used 
to fire at each other, though I never did, as it was too far. Now 
I knew that if the enemy occupied the hill that night, their 
picket would be at this tree ; and I accordingly made a circuit 
and crept up toward it, to reconnoitre, leaving the men a short 
distance behind. I got near the tree, which I could see indis- 
tinctly, but observed nothing in the shape of a picket. To find 
if any was really there, I picked up a stone to throw at a fence ; 
for I knew if there were any Yankees there, that as soon as they 



ADVENTURES OF DARRELL. 418 

heard it strike, thej would jump up and exclaim, 'Hello! 
didn't you hear something, Tom, or Dick ! What was that ? ' 
They would naturally be startled, and would in some manner 
betray their presence. 

" Well, I threw the stone, and it struck the fence, bouncing 
off and making a tremendous noise. There was no reply ; the 
silence remained entirely unbroken, and I was satisfied that there 
was no picket at that particular spot, at least. I therefore 
advanced boldly, and reached the tree, making a signal to the 
men to come up. The enemy had evidently been at the spot 
only a short time before. There were the remains of a picket 
fire, and a quantity of green corn lying about, taken from the 
field before the house, which was about two hundred yards off, 
and on the tree was hanging a canteen. I took it and put it 
on, and then cautiously approached the house, supposing that 
the Yankee pickets had gone in to sleep. Upton was then in 
the Yankee Congress, and his house was vacant, and I supposed 
the enemy used it as a place of shelter. 

" I walked noiselessly around the house, but could see no sign 
of any one. I thought I would try the same game as before, 
and found a stone, which I threw against the side of the house. 
Bang ! it went, but no one replied ; and I was then pretty sure 
that I had everything in my own hands. We knocked at the 
door, and a sleepy voice said something — probably a negro's — 
but we could not get in, though we tried to prise the door 
open. 

" I had thus got possession of the hill, and the next thing was 
to hold it. I reflected for a moment, and then sent two of the 
men back to Captain Simpson, with a message to the effect that 
I had obtained possession of the place without resistance, and 
that if he would send me fifteen men, I would stay there, engag- 
ing the enemy if they tried to recapture it. The men started 
off, but lost their way in the darkness — they were some of those 
town boys not used to scouting — and only one arrived at last ; 
the other went away round the whole line of the enemy, but got 
back safely next day. 

" I was thus left with only two men ; and one of these I 



414 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

posted as a vedette at the house, while I returned with the other, 
whose name was Jackson, to the tree by the gate, where the 
picket fire had been. 

" It was now near day, and I began to be very anxious for the 
appearaiice of the fifteen men. The messengers had had abun- 
dance of time to go and return, but no men ! I knew the pro- 
gramme of the enemy now perfectly well. They were very 
nervous at that time, and were always afraid of being ' cut off,' 
as they called it, and every night would leave their place on the 
hill, retiring to the woods down in the rear to prevent being 
* cut oflP ' by scouting parties in the dark. When day returned, 
they would resume their position at the picket tree. 

" I knew, therefore, that everything depended upon getting my 
reinforcement promptly, or it would be too late. I could not 
hold the hill with one man against them all, and I didn't like the 
thought of slinking off as I came, and making nothing by the 
expedition. So I listened anxiously for sounds from the direction 
of Falls Church, expecting every moment to hear the footsteps of 
the men. I could hear nothing, however, and for the reason I 
have given — that my messenger arrived so late. Capt. Simpson, 
as he told me afterwards, promptly ordered out the detail I asked 
for ; but they did not arrive in time. 

" All this time I was listening attentively in the opposite 
direction, too. I knew that if 7ny. men did not come, the enemy 
would at the first streak of daylight, and I did not wish to be 
caught. I determined to ' fire and fall back,' if I could not fight 
them — and the night was so still that I could hear the slightest 
sound made by a man long before he approached me. My plan 
had been all arranged, counting on the arrival of the fifteen men, 
and it was to place them in a cut of the road near the house — and 
as the enemy came up, make the men rest their guns on the 
bank, and pour a sudden fire into the flank of the column. I 
knew this would rout them completely — and everything was 
arranged to carry out the plan — but, as I said, the men did not 
come. If I held the hill I would have to do so with two instead 
of fifteen. 

" Everything turned out as I expected. Just at the first blush 



ADVENTURES OF DARRELL. 415 

of day, while everything was yet hazy and indistinct, I heard the 
enemy — tramp ! tramp ! tramp ! — coming up the hill. The man 
watching the house was two hundred yards off ; and Jackson and 
myself were, as I have said, at the gate near the tree, hid in the 
tall corn. He was armed with a Minie musket, and I had the 
same*weapon, with a six-shooter besides. 

" I leaned on the fence, crouching down and listening. The 
tramp of the Yankees came nearer, and, in the dim light, I could 
see a company of them, with an officer at their head, approaching. 
When they were about ten yards off, and I could make them out 
perfectly distinct, I whispered, ' Now, Jackson ! ' and, resting 
my gun on the fence, I took deliberate aim at the ofiBcer, and 
fired, striking him in the breast. I then dropped my gun, and 
poured into them the fire of all the barrels of my revolver, kill- 
ing a Sergeant, and wounding three men. 

" Although badly wounded, the Lieutenant in command stood 
gallantly, and shouted to the men, who had for the most part 
broken, and were running : 

" ' Halt there ! Fire on the scoundrels ! Halt, I say ! Fire on 
them ! ' 

" Some of them turned, and I heard the click of the locks as 
■ the guns were cocked. 

" ' Look out, Jackson ! ' I whispered, and I crouched down 
behind the fence. At the same moment a hot volley came tear- 
ing through the tall corn, and cutting the blades over our heads. 
I knew it would not do to let them discover that there were only 
two men in front ; so, having no more loads in my pistol, I thun- 
dered out as though addressing a company who had fired with-, 
out orders : 

" ' Steady, men ! steady there, I tell you ! Hold your fire ! 
Steady 1 Dress to the right ! ' 

" This completely took them in, and made them believe that 
they were ambushed by a large force. In spite of all the Lieu- 
tenant could do, they broke and ran down the hill, leaving one 
man — the Sergeant — dead behind them. 

" The Lieutenant was carried off by some of the men, and taken 
to a house not far from the spot. I was there soon afterwards, 



416 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

and they told me he was shot in the left breast, just above the 
heart, and died of the wound. 

" That was the first officer I ever killed, and the whole of the 
story. 

" Knowing that the enemy would soon return with a heavy 
force to dislodge me, and that nothing was to be gained by re- 
maining there longer without reinforcements, I called to the 
man at the house, and took up the line of march back to Falls 
Church. 

" If they had sent me the men, I could have held the hill ; but, 
as I told you, the messengers I sent got lost." 



II. 

HIS RECOLLECTIONS OF MANASSAS AND THE " GAM EST 
YANKEE." 

I have continued to extract from Captain Darrell, at various 
times, accounts of his life and adventures. A day or two since 
we were talking about the earlier scenes of the war, and the 
half-forgotten incidents which occurred before our eyes at the 
time. To my surprise, I found that we had often been near each 
other — that he had slept once by the battery to which I was at- 
tached ; and that, doubtless, I had seen, without noticing him, 
however. The memories of the Captain were not without inter- 
est; and following my theory that the traits and details of this 
period should be collected now, I proceed to let the Captain 
relate his adventures : 

" I was in Bonham's command at Manassas before Beauregard 
came there, and my regiment went along toward Centreville on 
the very day the Federals took possession of Alexandria. We 
stayed at Centreville some time, and then advanced to Fairfax. 
Here I commenced scouting around, and kept at it until the 
enemy made their advance on the 16th of July. Tliey came in 
heavy columns on the Flint Hill road, and Bonham fell back 
quietly with only a few shots from his artillery. The men were 



ADVENTURES OF DARRELL. 417 

all in the breastworks, hot for a fight, whicTi they all expected ; 
but they were marched out and back on the road to Centreville. 

" I was out on the road to the left of Germantown with a 
companion when their column appeared, and we were cut off. 
We struck into the woods, made a circuit, and came out again 
on a high hill above Germantown, on the turnpike, from which 
we could see them rushing into Fairfax. They seemed to over- 
flow it in a minute, and we could hear their yells as they en- 
tered — thinking the whole Rebel army had fled before them. 
They were soon at Germantown, and burned most of the bouses, 
hurrying on in pursuit of Bonham toward Centreville. I 
thought it best to get away from there as soon as possible, so I 
went on through the woods, and arrived at Centreville about the 
time you all ran your guns up on the hill there, to cover the 
retreat. There I saw General Bonham, whom I knew very well, 
and I told him I believed I would go out and scout around, to 
try and find what the enemy were about. He said he would be 
glad if I would do so, and I started off toward the Frying Pan 
road, and heard them moving in every direction. I traraj)ed 
around for a long time, to try and make something out ; but 
finding I could not, I returned to Centreville. The army was 
gone! and the enemy were pressing in just as I arrived. I 
thought I was certainly gone ; but I avoided them in the dark, 
and pushed on toward Bull Hun. 

"I reached the high land just above the stream in an hour or 
two, and remember meeting Captain, now Lieutenant-Colonel 
Langborne, whose company was on the side of the road, a part 
of the rear-guard. I entered into conversation with him, and 
he asked me to what command I was attached. I told him I 
was an independent, scouting around on my own responsibility ; 
and he invited me to stay with him. So, after eating some of 
his supper, I laid down on his blankets and went to sleep. 

'• I woke early, and went on toward Bull Eun. As I was 
going along, I saw a man on horseback ride across the field, and 
remember looking at him and taking him for one of our own 
men. I was stooping and picking blackberries at the time, and 
took no particular notice of him, or I might have killed him, 

27 



418 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

and got his horse and accoutrements, which I needed very much 
at the time. I allowed him to pass me ; and when he got near 
the small house on the hill, he called out to three or four soldiers 
posted there: 

" ' Where is General McDowell ? ' 

" ' General who ? ' was the reply. 

"'General McDowell!' he repeated. 'Make haste! I am 
looking for him ! ' 

" ' Halt ! halt ! ' came from the soldiers, who caught up and 
cocked their guns. The Yankee saw his mistake too late. He 
wheeled his horse round, and dug the spurs into him, but at 
that minute our men fired on him, and he fell to the ground, 
dead. 

" He proved to be General McDowell's quartermaster — I heard 
his name, but forget it now. He had seven hundred and sixty- 
odd dollars on his person, I was told. 

" After that I went on toward Blackburn's Ford, and found 
our men drawn up there in line of battle on the south bank. 
Soon after I got over General Longstreet rode down, smoking a 
cigar, and I heard the enemy coming. 

" ' Who will volunteer to go across and observe their move- 
ments ? ' asked Longstreet. 

" 'I will. General,' said Captain Marye, of Alexandria. 

" ' Go on, then. Captain,' said Longstreet. ' Hurrah for the 
Alexandria Guards I ' 

" ' The Alexandria Rifles^ General,' said Captain Marye, turn- 
ing round, and bowing, 

" 'Hurrah fpr the Rifles, then ! ' said Longstreet; and Marye 
advanced across the Run with his company. 

" It was soon after this, I think, that the artillery fight com- 
menced between our batteries and those of the Federals. Ours 
were in the plain there, on the slope of a little rising ground, and 
the enemy's were near the house, on the other side, with all the 
position on us. Our batteries were fought beautifully, and I re- 
member how excited we all were, watching the shells passing over 
us — we could see them. When some of our horses were killed 
we all felt deeply for the artillery ; but it was pushed forward, 



ADVENTURES OF DARRELL. 419 

and got out of range for the moment. The Yankees soon fell 
back, and we stayed there, waiting for them to renew "the attack. 
The men were terribly excited, and fired at everything over the 
Run, whether it was an enemy or not. Some fresh regiments 
came down, and they were sitting with their guns up, expecting 
every minute to begin, and eager for the enemy to approach. 
They would fire in the air, or at anything they saw ; and some- 
times whole companies would rise up, and blaze away right into 
the opposite bank. 

" This made me mad. I was as sick as I could be, with the 
measles breaking out all over me, and was going about with my 
face red and swollen, my shirt-bosom open, and my head feeling 
curiously. The men noticed me as I was rambling around, and 
seemed anxious to know who I was. I mixed with them, but 
said nothing until they began to throw away their ammunition, 
firing into the wood ; when I halloed at them, and told them to 
stop that. 

'* ' There are no Yankees there,' I shouted to them ; ' don't be 
wasting your cartridges in that way, men ! ' 

*' But they took no notice of me, except one or two, who asked 
me where I was from. 1 told them I was from South Carolina, 
and then they went on firing. The thing looked so ridiculous 
to me that I began to laugh, and just at that moment a whole 
company blazed away into the pines across the run. I jumped 
up, clapped my hands, and shouted enthusiastically : 

" ' That was a glorious volley, men ! — perfectly glorious ! You 
are the boys ! and that fire would have killed at least three thou- 
sand Yankees — 'if there were any within three or four miles of 
you ! ' 

" They laughed at this, and just as they stopped a shell came 
from the enemy and cut off" the top of a large tree under which 
I was standing. It crashed down, and a big limb struck me on 
the side of the head and knocked me over. Another piece, I 
heard, broke the back of a man in one of the companies. When 
they saw me knocked down they all laughed worse than ever, 
and shouted out: 

" ' Look out. South Carolina ! Take care of yourself ! ' 



420 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

" I tbouglit I would move on. After that I got so sick that 
I could not keep up, so I went along toward Mitchell's Ford 
above, and fell in with some friends of General Bonham's staff. 
His headquarters were just in rear of our batteries there, and 
they pitched me a small tent — the only one put up — and I lay 
down, not minding the heavy cannonading, I was so sick. I stayed 
there until the 21st, when I could stand it no longer, and deter- 
mined to get up and strike for the battle-field on our left. I went 
in that direction and fell in with a young cousin of mine, Edward 
Farley, who had come down from the University of Virginia to 
see the fun. We went along together, and I got on the field 
just when Evans, and Bee, and Bartow were fighting to the left 
of the Stone bridge. I was so weak that I could hardly stand 
up ; and my cousin advised me to take a drink of whiskey, as he 
had some along with him. I did not wish to do so at first, but 
he persuaded me that it would be best for me ; and I poured out 
a tin cup half full of the whiskey and swallowed it. I had never 
taken a drink before in my life — and I have never taken one 
since. I was so weak and exhausted, and my stomach was so 
empty, that it made me as tight as anything! I went charging 
around, half out of my senses, and tried to make the men stand 
to the work. They were falling back, however, when all at once 
Beauregard came galloping up, and rode up and down the line, 
making the men a speech, and urging them not to give up their 
firesides and altars to the foe. They answered with shouts all 
along the line, and soon afterwards charged, and drove the ene- 
my back toward Sudley. After that the battle was a rout. Our 
cavalry came down at a gallop, and the enemy took to flight. 

"I staggered on after them, and saw them running. I ran on 
too, firing at them, until I got nearly to Centreville. I was then 
obliged to stop and sit down, with my back to a tree, on the 
roadside, as I was too sick and weak to proceed. The effect of 
the liquor had worn off, and I remained there half dozing, until 
I heard cavalry coming along. It was Captain Powell's cavalry, 
from Alexandria — one of the first companies organized — and 
as they swept by me at a gallop, I shouted : 

" ' Go it, boys ! ^ Give it to 'em.' 



ADVENTURES OF DARRELL. 421 

" They passed on, and as soon as I was strong enough I got 
up, and went towards a house near by, to get something to eat. 
They did not want to let me in, but I had my pistol, and told 
them .that I was sick, and could go no further, and I intended to 
come in whether or no. I accordingly entered, and among a 
crowd there found Edward, who had been separated from me in 
the battle, and followed on as I had. 

" I lay down on a sofa, and sent out for something to eat, 
which I soon got. I then went to sleep, and when I woke next 
morning was a great deal better. I left the house, took the road 
to Fairfax, and never stopped until I got to the Chain Bridge, on 
the Potomac, where I proposed to Captain Powell to cross and 
capture the pickets on the other side. That's all I saw of the 
battle of Manassas." 

I shall conclude my article with one other adventure of 
the worthy Captain. We had been discussing the highly inte- 
resting subject of saddles, the merits of the " McClellan," the 
desirability of a good new one of that pattern, and the cri- 
minal negligence of those who had passed by whole piles of 
them and never secured one, when the Captain said he had a 
very fine one which had " belonged to the gamest Yankee he 
ever saw." There was something in that phrase which I have 
quoted, strongly suggestive of some helle aventwe^ and I there- 
fore made an assault upon the Captain to compel him to relate 
the incident. 

He did so, as usual, after repeated urgings ; and here 
is the narrative as nearly as possible in the words of the 
narrator : 

" I got the saddle when we were advancing after the battle of 
Cedar Eun, last August. I went with a part of the command 
to which I was attached, down the road which leads from Cul- 
peper to Kelley's Ford, on the Eappahannock. Just before you 
get to the river there are two gates, within a short distance of 
each other, which you have to pass through. There is a fence on 
the right side of the road, and another gate in tliat, opening into 
a field. On the left there is no fence — open field and a high hill. 

" Well, I took two men and went scouting down that way, 



422 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

and came to the first gate. I opened it, and rode through, but 
before the men could follow it shut to. All at once I saw in 
front of me three Yankees on foot — two privates and a sergeant, 
as I soon found. The sergeant was carrying a bucket. 

" As- soon as I saw them I called to them to surrender. 

u I Throw down your arms ! ' I called out, pointing my pistol 
at them, ' or you are dead men ! ' 

" The privates threw down their muskets, but the sergeant 
drew a pistol and was about to fire on me, when I covered him 
with my pistol, and said : 

" ' Now, you just fire, you scoundrel, and I'll kill you! ' 

" He hesitated for a moment, but finally lowered his pistol, 
and said he would not have surrendered to one man if I had not 
taken him at a disadvantage. I turned over the prisoners, and 
went on. As I moved on, Mosby and Hardeman Stuart came 
by, and pushed on to the high hill on the left, to reconnoitre. I 
had not gone far before I saw three Yankee cavalry in the field 
to the right, riding straight down towards us, evidently intending 
to [)ass through the gate in the fence. I had my two men with 
me, and as I wanted to overpower the Yankees, I beckoned to 
Mosby and Hardeman, who were in sight, and they came riding 
down. We then opened the gate, and all five of us pushed 
towards the three Yankees, who, instead of running, as I ex- 
pected, drew up in line to receive our charge — the rascals! We 
galloped at them, and they held their fire until we got within 
five yards of them, when bang! bang! bang! went their revolv- 
ers at us. We replied, and in a minute were right in the middle 
of them with the sabre, ordering them to surrender. 

" They obeyed, and I thought the fight was over, when sud- 
denly one of the scoundrels put his pistol right in my face and 
fired — so close that the powder burned my ear ; here is the mark 
still. As he fired he dashed off, and two of our men pushed to 
cut him off from the gate. I was mad enough, as you may 
understand ; and I rode at him, full speed. When he saw him- 
self thus surrounded, he lowered his sabre which he had drawn, 
and called out that he would surrender. I rode up to him, and 
shook m}^ fist at him, gritting my teeth. 



ADVENTURES OF DARRELL. 423 

" ' You scoundrel ! ' I exclaimed. ' You black-hearted vil- 
lain ! to fire on me after surrendering ! I am almost tempted to 
blow your brains out with ray pistol ! ' 

" He made no reply ; and telling the men to take charge of 
him I turned to ride back. I had not gone ten steps befoi'e I 
heard a sudden cry behind me, and looking hastily round, I saw 
one of the men falling from the saddle, with one arm thrown up, 
ns if to ward off a blow. He had tried to do so, but failed. 
The infernal scoundrel of a Yankee had, after surrender, sud- 
denly cut the man over the head with his sabre, and running 
against the other, nearly knocked him from his horse ! 

" Instead of running, the rascal then turned his attention to 
me, and made a wipe at me as his horse darted by, which just 
grazed my head. He might perhaps have got off* if he had 
tried, then ; but he came at me again, riding right down with his 
sabre ready. 

" I saw my chance, then, and just as he was driving at me, I 
levelled my pistol and fired. The ball struck him just under 
the left ear, and passed entirel}' through his head. 

" He fell from his saddle, and I caught his horse, which was 
a very fine one. That was the gamest Yankee I ever fought 
with, and his saddle was a first-rate one — a bran new ' McClel- 
lan ; ' and if you want one I will give it to you, as I have as 
many as I want." 

So terminated the Captain's story of the " gamest Yankee." 
It may interest those who like the clash of sabres and the crack 
of fire-arms — on paper. 



in. 

HOW HE WAS CAPTURED. 

Among the most interesting narratives which I extracted, by 
adroit urging, from my friend Captain Darrell, was that of the 
hard fight which he had at Langly, and his capture. Let me 
here again, in justice to the Captain, guard the reader from sup- 



424 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

posing that these relations were volunteered bj the hero of them. 
Such was bj no means the case. It was only after skilful ma- 
noeuvring and repeated urging that the worthy was induced — 
with many preliminary protests, accompanied by a determined 
twisting of his mustache — to enter on the subject of his adven^ 
tures. 

This explanation is due to him. Nothing is more perilous 
than what is called egotism. When a man sits down to narrate 
his own performances, or when he relates them orally to a 
circle of listeners, the instinctive feeling of the reader or the lis- 
tener is prone to be one of doubt. Human nature is so curiously 
constituted that whatever even appears egotistical is offensive ; 
and the revenge which men take for being silenced or eclipsed, 
is to question the truth of what the egotist utters. So sure is 
this proclivity to underrate what throws us into the shadow, that 
Bulwer, in one of those books in which he shows so much keen 
observation of the world, makes the company rejoice when a 
profound talker has left the room, and think far more highly of 
Mr. Pelham, the exquisite, who only said, " Grood ! " and " Very 
true ! " as others talked. If Captain Paul Jones talked for two 
hours steadily, all about his adventures, he would have many 
persons to declare him a bore, and doubt whether he ever fought 
the Serapis. If Marion spoke of swamp-encounters all through 
an' evening, there would be many to question whether he ever 
mounted steed. Such is human nature. 

The reader will please observe, therefore, that Captain Darrell 
did not volunteer these statements. Instead of being an egotist, 
and an incessant talker, he is really the most retiring and silent 
of mgn. You may be with him for a month, and during the 
whole of that time he will not once refer to any event of his 
experience. He will talk with you quietly, upon this or that 
subject, but never about his own exploits. I cannot too often 
repeat, injustice to the Captain, that the narratives here given 
were extracted from him by the process of direct interrogation. 
Having the present highly praiseworthy end in view — that of 
putting upon record some singular chapters of the war — I attacked 
him, and drew forth his recollections, as water is drawn from a 



ADVENTURES OF DARRELL. 425 

well, by working at the windlass. The adventures eame out in 
reply to my questions, and solely to gratify an evident curiosity 
to hear them. If I give them to the reader, he will act with 
great ingratitude in attributing either egotism or gasconade to 
the worthy Captain. 

With these few words of caution to the reader, I proceed to 
let the Captain tell how he was captured. 

" It is a long story," he said, " but you have managed to set 
me talking, and I suppose I may as well go on. My capture was 
an accident — it ought never to have occurred. The way of it 
was this : 

" It took place about November, 1861 ; and at that time I was 
scouting around, trying to find some opening to ' go in.' When 
one place got too hot for me, I went to another. I would work 
around for some time, up by Dranesville; then near Vienna 
and Falls Church ; and then by Annandale, down to Occoquon. 
The South Carolina boys — you know I came on with them — 
used to tell me that I would certainly get caught ; that I was 
too rash and reckless ; and they would not go with me any 
more. But that was unjust. That has been said of me a 
hundred times; but there is no man more cautious than I am. 

" I had a scout on hand, and I got a man to go with me, whose 
name was Carper. Also Frank Decaradeux, First Lieutenant of 
Company G, 7th South Carolina — a noble fellow, who was killed 
at Charleston in the fight lately. At Dranesville we got another 
named Coleman, who is dead, too, I believe, poor fellow — and set 
out on the scout. 

" The enemy were then at Langly, with their pickets in front, 
and we heard that they were going to make an expedition to- 
ward Dranesville, where we had a picket post. Our intention 
was to waylay the party, whatever its strength, and attack it 
from the woods on the side of the road ; then, during the confu- 
sion, to make our escape in the thicket, if necessary. I was at 
that time in first-rate spirits' — hot for a fight — and I knew I could 
depend upon my companions, especially Frank Decaradeux. So 
we set out toward Langly, and when within a mile or so of their 
pickets, took post in the woods where the road suddenly descend- 



426 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

ed between high banks, and gave us an excellent opportunity to 
ambush them as they approached. 

" Well, we waited there two or three hours, and there was no 
sign of an enemy. Then as night had come we concluded to 
give it "up for that day, and go across to a house which I knew 
of, and get supper and lodging. We went there accordingly, and 
had a good supper, telling the old man to have us a hot cup of 
coffee at daylight, when we were going to try again. Soon after 
day we left him in high spirits, and made for the main road 
again. We had just come near, in the field, when I saw the head 
of a column of Federal Cavalry, coming from the direction of 
Dranesville. They had passed us in the night ! At Dranesville 
they had caught our pickets — Whitton and Hildebrand — and 
about thirteen citizens, whom they were now carrying back to 
Langly. 

" My first thought was to get to the big pines where we had been 
on the evening before ; but this was impossible. The enemy were 
so close upon us that if we started to run they would certainly 
see us — and the pines were more than half a mile off. The only 
thing I thought of was to take advantage of a rise in the ground, 
cross the road, and get in some pine bushes — short second growth 
about as high as a man — where I determined to open fire upon 
them. We accordingly ran across as hard as we could, and pass- 
ing by a small house, a Mrs. Follen's, got in the bashes. The 
enemy were coming on quickly and we held a council of war. 

" ' ni tell you what, boys, it won't do for us to let them get by 
without doing them some damage. They have been up there 
robbing and plundering, and I for one intend to fire into them, 
and die if necessary. But we can get off. They will think we 
are a heavy force sent to ambush them ; and in the confusion we 
can get into the big pines below, where they never can catch us.' 

" Decaradeux said he would stand by me, and the others did 
too, at last — but they looked very pale. We looked carefully to 
our arms and saw that all was right. We had guns, or carbines, 
except Decaradeux, who carried a short revolving rifle, which had 
got clogged up with the spermaceti on the cartridges. He worked 
at it, and got it in order, however, and said he was ready. 



ADVENTURES OF DARRELL. 427 

"The cavalry had now got within twenty yards of us, and at 
the head of the column rode General Bayard, then Colonel, with 
some staff officers : the prisoners were in the rear. As they 
came within ten or fifteen yards I arose and said, ' Now, boys ! ' 
and we gave them a volley which threw them into tremendous 
confusion. Whitton told me afterwards that the men trembled 
in their very boots, and turned their horses to run — thinking 
they were ambushed by the rebel army. Bayard shouted, 
' Steady ! steady, men ! ' and pushed forward — he was a brave 
fellow — and I was ready for him. As he got within five yards 
of me I fired and tore his coat skirt all to pieces — killing his 
horse, which fell upon him. As he fell, some of the otiicers 
whose horses had run on by, to the front, came galloping back; 
and seeing one in uniform with straps, I fired and shot him 
through the body, killing him. 

"We might have got off in the confusion had it not been for 
Mrs. Follen, who cried, ' Oh ! they are only four men ! ' Poor 
thing, I suppose she was frightened. The enemy, as soon as they 
heard this, rallied, and threw dismounted men into the bushes 
after us ; it seemed to me that they were down and in the pines 
in one minute. Frank Decaradeux had been shot through the 
right hand, and Coleman through the side. No time was to be 
lost, and we made a break for the big pines, where I expected to 
be able to escape. We could not reach them — the flankers 
coming in and cutting us off — and soon found that we were 
surrounded. I got separated from the rest, and was running 
around trying to find an opening to escape, but they were all 
around me. I could hear their howls as they closed in. 

" ' Here^s the First Pennsylvania ! Bully for us, boys ! We 
are the boys ! We'll give 'em h — I ! ' 

" It was like a pack of wolves. I had fired all my loads, and 
stopped under a sapling to reload. I remember my feelings at 
that moment perfectly. I never was so miserable in all my life 
before. I had that feeling of desperation which you can imagine 
a dog has when he is run into a corner, and glares up and snaps 
at you. My hand did not tremble a particle, however, as I was 
loading my revolver. I had a small flask, and I put in the 



■128 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

proper amount of powder and rammed the balls home, and then 
got up i'rom the ground. Half-a-dozen of the enemy were 
closing right around me, and as soon as they saw me they fired, 
and I returned it. I could not find an opening to get out — I 
was surrounded upon every side, and I didn't know what to do. 
Every moment they were popping at me, only a few yards ofi", 
as I doubled about, and I had eight balls in my clothes and tbe 
cape of my coat, and one in my cap. At last I got into an open 
space, towards the road, and saw a gap in the fence which one 
cavalryman was watching. 

" ' Now is my chance,' I thought. 

" And I made a rush straight at him. I had kept one load in 
my pistol, and if I killed him, as I thought I could easily, I could 
get his horse and then good-b}'' to them ! As I ran towards him 
he raised his carbine and fired at me, but I did not mind that. 
I was up to him in a minute, and put my pistol straight at his 
breast and shot him out of the saddle. He fell, and I was just 
about to catch the rein, when — I scarcely remember, but Hilde- 
brand told me, the cavalrymen rode me down, one of the men 
striking me across the head with the barrel of his carbine. But 
I think the hoof of the horse must have struck me as he jumped 
over me — my left side was all bruised and bloody. 

" When I came to my senses I was lying on my face, and the 
first words I heard were, I remember perfectly : 

" ' Dead as hell, by ! ' 

" I raised my head a little, and finding I was not dead, they 
collared me, and made me stand up, hustling me about from side 
to side, and jabbering in every language. I got tired of being 
held in this way, and clutched a carbine from one of them, 
intending to club it, and hit right and left, but they got it away 
from me. I remember there was one fellow with a cocked pis- 
tol who seemed anxious to get at nie, and the officers around 
were laughing, and saying, ' Let the Italian get at him ! he'll 
finish him ! ' 

" ' Put me out in that field with a pistol,' I said, ' and your 
Italian or any can try me ! ' 

" They only laughed at this, and hustled me about, as they 



ADVENTURES OF DARRELL. 429 

did poor Frank Decaradeux and Coleman, whom tliey had 
caught. Carper got off. Decaradeux had lost his hat, like my- 
self, and had an oilcloth wrapped over his head, which made his 
pale cheeks and black eyes like a girl's. They laughed at this 
resemblance, and said, pointing at me: 

" ' Who is that fellow there, with his hand in the breast of his 
coat? He looks like he didn't care what the price of tobacco 
was! ' 

" I had gotten dignified^ however, and made no answer ; and 
soon after an officer rode up, and said : 

" ' Captain Darrell, I am sorry to see you in this predicament. 
Captain McKewn of General McCall's staff. I remember having 
the pleasure of your acquaintance at the University of Virginia.' 

" I bowed, and he asked me what had become of my cap. 
I told him I had unfortunately lost it, but I observed one of 
the men riding around with it. Jie went off and got me a fine 
new one, and soon afterwards the fellow who wore my cap — it 
was a red one — came prancing around. . 

" ' Hey ! ' he said to me, ' you see I've got your cap, you d — d 
rebel!' 

" ' Yes,' I replied, ' but you are only getting back your own 
property. I got that from a Brooklyn Fire Zouave, and you are 
entitled to it, I suppose. I killed the owner.' 

" This was really the case. In the charge made by Colonel 
Fitz Lee, near Annandale, a short time before, I had lost my 
hat in running the enemy, and came nearly up with two of them 
who had jumped the fence and were scudding through the pines. 
I threw myself from the saddle over the fence, and aiming at 
one of the Yankees, shot him through the breast. I called to 
the other to surrender, but he turned round and levelled his car- 
bine at me, not more than ten steps off, I had no load in my 
pistol, and would have been a dead man, had it not been for one 
of my friends in the road, who fired on the Yankee just as he 
took aim at me. The ball passed just over my shoulder, and 
struck him in the face, and he fell. I took off his pistol-belt and 
pistol ; and as I had no hat, picked up his red cap and wore it. 
This was the same cap which the fellovv prancing round had on; 



430 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

" When we came near Langly, the General, McCall, came out 
with his division, and I heard him say, that he had heard the 
firing, and thought Bayard had been ambushed by the whole 
rebel army. 

'' * It was worth your while, general,' I said, ' to bring out your 
division to capture four men.^ 

" ' Who is this ? ' asked General McCall. 

" 'Captain Darrell, one of the prisoners, General,' said an officer. 

" The general ordered me to be brought to him, and asked me 
who I was. I told him and he said: ^ 

" ' You are from the Confederate army, are you not. Captain ? ' 

" ' Yes, sir,' I replied. 

" ' What is their force in front of us ? ' 

"'General McCall,' I said, 'you ought to know that that is 
not a proper question to ask me ; and that it would be highly 
improper for me to give you any information upon the subject. 
I am a soldier, sir, and know my duty too well for that.' ' 

" He laughed and said no more ; and then Colonel Bayard 
came up, and talked with me a short time; he was not wounded. 
He only asked what command I belonged to and then rode on. 

" That evening we were put in a wagon, and carried to Wash- 
ington — Decaradeux and myself. I don't know what became of 
Coleman. Here we were put in the third story of the Old Capi- 
tol, and I soon understood that the}'- were trying to make out 
that I was a spy, and hang me as such. When they asked me 
my name, I told them Captain Darrell, of General Bonham's 
Staff", as General Bonham, who was an old acquaintance of mine, 
liad often urged me to accept a commission in the C. S. A., to 
protect me if I was captured. He told me he could easily pro- 
cure one for me, as at that time they were making appointments 
every day ; but I replied that I would rather remain free, as 
they might put me off in some fort somewhere, when I would 
never lay eyes on a Yankee. He then told me to consider my- 
self his volunteer aide, on his staff; and accordingly I reported 
myself as such, and was so published in the morning papers. 

"I was constantly scheming how to escape while in prison, 
but had crowds of inquisitive visitors coming in on me at all 



ADVENTURES OF DAKUELL. 431 

times, and pestering me to death. One day a big pompous army 
surgeon came in and flourished around, with 

" ' Well, Captain — hem ! — you young fellows have got your- 
selves into a bad scrape — hem ! ' 

" ' Xot that I am aware of, sir,' I replied coolly. ' How so? ' 

" ' Why, you came inside of our lines by night, and waylaid 
our troops, against all the usages of civilized warfare, sir.' 

" * I was on a scout, like General Bayard,' I returned. 

" ' A scout, sir ! ' he exclaimed, growing red in the face ; ' we 
were on no scout^ sir! we were on a recomioissance, sir, with a 
force of one thousand cavalry, sir! ' 

" ' Well, /was on a reconnoissance^ too, with a force of four in- 
fantry men. You came out to reconnoitre us, and we reconnoitred 
you. The reconnoitring parties happened to meet on the road, 
and my reconnoitring party got the better of yours.^ 

" This seemed to make him furious. He swelled, and swag- 
gered, and puffed, like a big turkey-gobbler, and tried to frown 
me down, but it was not successful. 

" ' Well, sir,' he said, ' if you did get the better of us, you at 
least are our prisoner, sir ; and there are grave charges against 
you, sir — very grave charges, sir! ' 

" I began to get mad, and asked him what he meant by that. 

" ' I mean, sir,' he said, raising his voice and swelling out his 
breast, ' that you have shot a cfoctor, sir ! — yes, sir ; a doctor, sir ! ' 

" ' What doctor ? Where did I shoot a doctor ? ' 

" ' On the road, sir ! He was a doctor, sir ; the officer you 
killed, sir ! a non-combatant, without arms, in the performance 
of his official duties, sir 1 ' 

" ' Oh ! a doctor was he ! ' I said, ' a doctor ! Well, you doctors 
ought to take care how you ride along at the head of columns 
of cavalry in our country, and put yourselves in the way" of balls, 
in uniform, with straps on your shoulders. It is dangerous.' 

" ' He was a doctor, sir ; I say ! a non-combatant ! a doctor, 
sir ; and you murdered him ! yes, murdered him, sir ! ' 

" ' Look here, sir,' I said ; ' this is my room and if you can't 
behave yourself in it, I wish you to leave it. I wish to have 
no more of vour talk ! ' 



432 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

" ' Ob, well, sir ! very well, sir ! ' 

" And the doctor swaggered out. The next who came was a 
Major, a little smiling finicky fellow, who was oily and polite in 
his manner, and seemed uncommonly friendly. 

" ' This is an unfortunate affair, Captain,' he began in a sympa- 
thizing tone. 

" 'Not very,' I said. 

" ' I fear it is. You see, you were taken inside of our lines, and 
It is probable you will be treated as a spy.' 

" ' I reckon not, sir.' 

" ' Why, so I hear, at least. Do you often enter our lines, 
Captain ? ' 

" ' I have done so, frequently."' 

" ' In citizen's dress. Captain ? ' he inquired, smiling ; and then 
I saw what he was after, and was on my guard. 

" ' No,' I replied, ' I come with my arms to make a military 
reconnoissance.' 

" ' Do 3'our officers enter our lines in tliis way often, Captain ? ' 

" ' Well,' I said, ' tolerably often. Colonel Fitz Lee made a 
reconnoissance or scout, as you please, down beyond Annandale, 
the other day, with a squadron of cavalry ; and General Jeb 
Stuart is particularly fond of such expeditions — indulging in 
them frequently.' 

He tried to make me commit myself in several other ways, 
but finding he could not succeed, got up and left. After that I 
told the sentinel at my door not to admit any more of them — 
which, however, I lost by, as they would not allow my friends to 
come and see me, or any of the delicacies they sent to reach me. 
They permitted me to walk in the yard, however, but forbade the 
prisoners to exchange any words or signs with those confined 
above. One day I saw some ladies at an upper window of the pri- 
son, who waved their handkerchiefs to me, and I took off my hat to 
them. The sentinel told me it was against orders, but I replied 
that in the South gentlemen alwaj^s returned the salutation of 
ladies — and I didn't mind him. One of the ladies then dropped 
a little secession flag, made of riband ; and I picked it up and 
put it in my hat. The sentinel ordered me to take it out, but I 



ADVENTURES OF DARRELL. 433 

refused ; and told him to call his Sergeant. The Sergeant came, 
and I told him to call the officer of the guard. I was going on 
through the ofi&cer of the guard, and the officer of the day, up 
to the Provost-Marshal ; but the officer of the guard was an old 
Lieutenant, who said, ' Oh, everybody knows his politics. There 
is no harm in letting him wear a riband in his hat.' So 1 
continued to wear it. 

" One of the ladies was Mrs. Greenough, and she had a little 
daughter of about twelve or thirteen, who used to run about the 
prison and visit all the rooms, as the sentinel would not stop 
such a mere child. She and myself became great friends, and 
one day she brought me some flowers from her mother, and 
whispered— for a guard was always present — that I would find a 
note in them. I found the note, and after that carried on quite a 
correspondence. I would make her a present of an apple, which 
I had cut and hollowed out — putting a note in it, and then stick- 
ing it together again. As the crowd were going down to dinner 
one day, I slipped up instead of down, and went into Mrs. 
Grreenough's room, and had a long talk with her and another lady 
who was with her; getting back again without discovery. 

" I was always thinking of plans to escape, however, and three 
schemes suggested themselves. Either to bribe the sentinel in the 
back yard not to see us — or stab the sentinels at the outer and 
inner door — or drop out of the front window by blankets torn 
in strips, just as the sentry walked off on his beat, taking the 
chances of his fire when he discovered us, I had two associates 
in these plans, a prisoner named Conner, and Lieutenant Harry 
Stewart. They preferred the first, w^iile I liked the last best. 
Our plan was to escape to Baltimore, where some friends were 
fitting out secretly a tug with guns on it, to run down the bay, 
and attack Burnside's transports. This played exactly into my 
hand — to cut and slash, and blaze away at them — and I was so 
anxious to undertake the expedition, instead of being sent down 
tamely, with a white flag and all that sort of thing, to be ex- 
changed at Fortress Monroe, that when they told me I would be 
regarded as a prisoner of war and soon released, I did not give 
up my plan of escaping. It was all stopped, though, by Major 

28 



434 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

Wood's coming into my and Decaradeux's room, and telling us he 
suspected something, and had put Conner and Harry Stewart 
into solitary confinement. 

"Before I could arrange any new plan Decaradeux and my- 
self were exchanged, and I was free again. It was well I didn't 
adopt Harry Stewart's plan. After a while he was allowed to go 
back to his room, and having bribed the two sentinels in the 
back yard, he attempted with Conner to escape one night. Just 
as he raised the window to get out, one of the sentinels said, 

'There is the d d rascal — fire on him ! ' The man fired, and 

shot him through the heart. I don't know what became of Con- 
ner. 

" When I got to Eichmond, I set off for Centreville to get my 
trunk, intending to go out and join some friends in the South- 
west; but General Stuart met me there; gave me a fine horse ; 
and told me if I would stay with him, he would show me some 
sport. 

" I accepted his offer; and have been with him ever since." 



IV. 

INCIDENTS ON THE PENINSULA. 

Having given me the history of his adventures at Langly 
and in Washington, Captain Darrell yawned, and persisted in 
changing the subject. It was evident that he had made up his 
mind not to talk any more at that time upon military matters ; 
and we accordingly passed to other topics. 

He was here again yesterday, however, and I immediately 
attacked him on the subject of his adventures. 

He shook his head. 

" You are making me talk too much about myself," said the 
Captain, " and I will get up the reputation of a boaster. , One 
of the greatest dangers with hunters, partisans, and scouts, is the 
temptation to exaggerate, and tell 'good stories.' All that I 
say is true, and scouting with me is no more than hunting — as 



ADVENTURES OF DARRELL. 435 

if it were after bear or deer — and I speak of it as such. But I 
don't wish to be thought a boaster." 

It was some time before I could eradicate from the Captain's 
mind the impression that his histories were hstened to with sen- 
timents of cynical doubt. He yielded very gradually — thawing 
very slowly before the warmth of my assurances ; but at last I 
succeeded in quieting his scruples, and getting him in a talkative 
humour. One thing led to another ; this incident brought forth 
that ; and finally the Captain was persuaded to give me the fol- 
lowing stor}'^ of his adventures at Williamsburg. 

As before, I give the narrative almost exactly in the words of 
the speaker. It was as follows : 

" I might as well commence at the beginning. On the retreat 
from Yorktown, last spring, when our army was falling back to 
the Chickahominy, I was with Greneral Stuart, and the cavalry 
were retiring by the Telegraph and Williamsburg roads, covering 
our rear. These two roads make a sort of triangle ; like the 
two sides of the letter V, the point of the V being down the 
Peninsula. The Williamsburg road was the left side of the V 
— look at these two straws — and the Telegraph road the other. 
There were two by-roads running through the triangle and con- 
necting the main roads. If you have a clear idea of this, you 
will understand what took place easily. 

" The cavalry were falling back in two columns upon the 
Telegraph and Williamsburg roads, General Stuart being in 
command of the force on the latter. He was anxious to keep 
up thorough communications with the other column, however, 
and as I was familiar with every part of that country, he sent 
me with Captain Conner, of the Jeff. Davis Legion, who was 
ordered to cut across with a party, leave pickets at openings, and 
see that the cavalry on the Telegraph road fell back regularly in 
good order — parallel with the other column, and neither too fast 
nor too slow. Well, I proceeded with Captain Conner along 
the sort of bridle path which was the lowest down of the two 
which I have mentioned, as connecting the main roads, keeping 
a keen look-out for the enemy, who, I was pretty sure, were all 



436 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

around us. The pines were too thick to see much, however — 
}■ ou know what sort of a country it is — and we went on rather 
blindly. About half way we met a countryman who was lead- 
ing a -cow by the hornS, and he told us that a party of the 
enemy's cavalry had just passed along the other cross road 
above toward the Williamsburg road. 

" It occurred to me at once that our men on the Telegraph 
road had fallen back more rapidly than the other column, and 
unmasked the mouth of the upper cross road, which the enemy 
had then struck into, intending to get into the Williamsburg 
road and cut the General off. I stated my opinion to Captain 
Conner, but he seemed to think differently. The cavalry which 
the countryman had seen could not possibly be any but our 
own, he said. I stuck to it, however, that they were probably 
the enemy's ; and as the countryman told us they were then 
drawn up on the cross road, I offered to go and reconnoitre. 
Captain Conner said he would go with me, and we started off at 
a gallop through the pines toward the spot where the man said 
they were. 

" When I got within fifty yards I could see a party of cavalry 
drawn up, as the countryman stated, and I was sure they were 
Yankees. Captain Conner still adhered to his opinion, however, 
that they were a part of our own force, and I told him I would 
dismount, creep up, and determine the matter. He agreed ; and 
I got off my horse, threw the bridle over a stump, and crept 
through the pine brush until I was within fifteen feet of them, 
I saw the blue pantaloons and jackets plainly, and knew they 
were Federals ; so I crept back toward my horse. At the same 
moment — it all occurred in a twinkling — I heard, ' Halt ! halt ! 
halt ! halt ! bang ! bang ! bang ! ' in front, and saw Captain 
Conner, who had pushed on, certain that they were Confederates, 
taken prisoner by the enemy. I had mounted, and the first 
thing I knew I was in the midst of them — carried by my horse, 
who became ungovernable — and I saw that my best chance 
would be to make straight for the Williamsburg road, which was 
not far, and if I got out, inform the General that a party was 
lying in wait for him. I ran through them, followed by bang ! 



ADVENTURES OF DARRELL. 437 

bang ! bang ! from their carbines, and drove ahead into the Wil- 
liamsburg road — right plump against a column of the enemy's 
cavalry, drawn up to charge the General, when he came near 
enough. My horse ran right against a Yankee's, who wiped at 
rae with his sabre — for they all had their sabres drawn — and 
just missed me. I was going so fast though that I passed straight 
through the column, and seeing that the other side of the road 
was lined with heavy undergrowth, I jumped off my horse and 
ran in, leaving my horse to the Yankees, 

" They banged away at me as I went in, but only a few had 
their carbines ready, and they did not come near me. They 
could not follow me, as the pines were too thick for any horse- 
man to enter. My object now was to get back to the General 
and tell him of the attempt to cut him off. I thought I would 
reconnoitre, however, first, and ascertain their force, so I crept 
up to the edge of the bushes, and looked out. As I did so, I 
saw them moving backwards and forwards, greatly excited, 
with ' Here they are ! ' ' Look out ! ' but soon afterwards they 
fell back, apparently looking for a better position. The next 
thing I saw was Colonel Groode, of the Third Cavalry, coming 
up the road, and I ran out and met him, telling him what I 
knew, and stating that they were going to charge him. He 
drew his men up on the right of the road so as to let the Yan- 
kees charge by, and slash into them ; and as I had no horse I 
got into the bushes just in advance of the head of the column, 
intending to shoot the commander of the Federal cavalry as soon 
as I could see him well. I had my carbine and pistol, which I 
had hung on to through all, and soon I heard the enemy com- 
ing, shouting and yelling, right down on Colonel Goode. 

" As they came within about fifteen yards, I levelled my carbine 
at the officer in front, and pulled trigger ; but the cursed thing 
snapped. I had been skirmishing all day, and it had got dirty. 
I fired my pistol into them, however, and the Federal Cavalry 
halted, both sides sitting in the saddle and banging away with 
carbines. Our men had the better of it, though, as the Yankees had 
their sabres drawn, and we got the first fire on them, killing 
several of them, I saw in the road afterwards. I wounded three 



438 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

or four myself, and was still popping at them when they con- 
cluded to give it up, and go back. They turned round, and I 
ran out, looking for a good horse, as several were running about 
without riders. I got a good one, but found he was wounded, 
and just then I saw a splendid black stallion, who took my eye 
wonderfully. I tried to catch him — walking up and holloing 
' woe ! ' to him — but whenever I got near, he trotted off, and I 
missed him. I determined not to give it up, however — and I 
kept following and trying to catch him until I was at least a mile 
and a half back toward Williamsburg. I caught him at last, 
mounted him, and started back toward the scene of the skirmish. 
I remember feeling in fine spirits, and looking down at my 
splendid stallion, who was full of fire and spirit — a big black fel- 
low, the very horse I wanted — admiring his neck and action. I 
was still examining him, with my head down, as we went on at full 
speed toward the spot where I expected to find Colonel Goode, 
when suddenly I heard a quick ' Halt ! halt ! halt ! ' ' Here's 
one of 'em ! ' in front ; and a carbine ball whizzed by me. I 
looked up, and there was the enemy in the road instead of Colonel 
Goode, who had fallen back. They had got reinforcements, and 
brought up artillery to plant in the road — and T had run right 
into them ! 

" There was only one thing for me to do, and that was to get 
away from there as fast as possible. I accordingly wheeled round 
and went back over the same road I had come, followed by a 
dozen men, shouting 'halt! halt! halt!' and firing at me. I 
leaned over on ray horse, and could hear the balls whizzing by me 
every second — I afterwards found the accoutrements, especially 
the thick bundle behind the saddle, full of bullet holes. I would 
have got away from them, but all at once my horse threw up his 
head — a ball had passed clean through it. He still kept on, 
however, — horses will go long with that sort of wound — but 
another bullet struck him right behind my leg, on the left side, 
and I felt him staggering. The party saw this, and set up a 
whoop, which was rather too near. I saw that they would catch 
me, if I depended on my horse, so I threw myself off and ran 
down a little path in the bushes, by the side of the road, and did 



ADVENTURES OF DARRELL. 439 

not stop until I was well concealed. They fired at me and 
around several times, but as they were afraid of coming on 
our infantry, they gave it up, and rode away. 

" As soon as they were gone I came out of the bushes, and 
went to my horse. He had fidlen in the road, and I took from 
him several articles strapped to the saddle, and left him to die. 

"I knew now that the General would retire by the Beach 
road, the only one left, and I determined to strike across and join 
him, trusting to luck to get a horse somewhere. I accordingly 
set out in that direction, trusting to my skill to flank the enemy's 
pickets, which I knew I could do, and get through. My only 
fear was that I would be shot by our own pickets, as it was now 
getting dusk. I went on, through the woods and fields, avoid- 
ing the enemy's fires whenever I saw them, and approaching our 
lines. I had got very nearly through, when suddenly I came 
upon three cavalrymen in the middle of the road, near a little 
bridge I had to pass. I was sure they were Yankees, so I cocked 
my pistol, and walked up to them boldly, saying in a loud com- 
monplace tone — 

" ' Hem ! — ah ! — what company do you belong to, men?' 

" ' Company A, sir.' 

" This was not sufficient. Company A might be a Yankee com- 
pany. So I said, 

" ' What regiment ? ' 

" ' The Fourth.' 

" This was no more definite than the other. 

" ' Ah ! ' I said, ' ahem— the Fourth, eh ? Fourth New York, 
I suppose ? ' 

" ' No — the Fourth Virginia,' replied one of the men. I never 
was more relieved in my life, and told them how things stood, and 
which way to look out. I went on through the awful mud, and 
when I had gone some distance met a regiment of Confederate 
infantry coming down, with an officer on horseback at their 
head, who was very much out of humour. 

" ' Where is the post ? ' he was saying. * I don't believe it is this 
way, and we must have come in the wrong direction. Where 
is the regiment to be relieved ? ' 



440 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

" I recognised General Pryor, and said : 

" ' I can tell you, General.' 

" 'Hello! who's that!' he replied, looking through the dark, 
' how did you know me ? ' 

" ' By your voice. I remember meeting you at the Commercial 
Convention in Knoxville, to which I was a delegate — and making 
your acquaintance.' 

" ' What is your name, sir ? ' 

" I told him, and added, 

" ' The regiment you are looking for is down in the fortifica- 
tions, in that direction ; and though it will be going back, I will 
act as your guide.' 

" So I went with him, and finding some friends in the Nine- 
teenth Mississippi, commanded by Colonel Mott, a friend of mine, 
I lay down, and went to sleep. 

" On the next morning, I was still talking with my friends of 
the Nineteenth, when chancing to look toward the front, I saw a 
line of men advancing through the brushwood, who, I was cer- 
tain, were Yankees. It was drizzling, and no attack was ex- 
pected, though we knew that the enemy was right in our front; 
and when I told the Lieutenant, in command of the company 
I was with, that the men in front were certainly Yankees, he did 
not believe it. 

*' ' They can't be,' he said ; ' they are a party of our own men 
who have been out on a scout toward the enemy, and are com- 
ing in.' 

"As he was speaking, the line came on steadily, and I saw 
distinctly the blue pantaloons, and oil-cloth capes thrown over 
their heads as a protection from the rain. I knew from this 
that it was the enemy, as none of our men had capes ; and I 
jumped up, crying to the men : 

" ' They are Yankees ! Fire, men ! They are right on you ! ' 

" ' Hold your fire ! ' shouted the Lieutenant, ' don't shoot your 
friends! It is some of the Seventh Alabama from our left.' 

'"There are no troops on our left!' I replied, 'the Seventh 
Alabama is on the right, and those people are Yankees ! Fire, 
men! ' 



ADVENTURES OF DARRELL. 441 

"And I ran out pointing at them where they were advancing, 
within twenty yards, in the pines. 

" 'Don't fire, I say I ' shouted the Lieutenant to his men, ' they 
are friends ! ' 

" Well, I'll take the responsibility, as far as I am concerned! ' 
I said ; and levelling ray carbine I took aim, and saw one of 
the men fall. As soon as I shot, the whole party stopped sud- 
denly, as though they were astonished. 

" ' Fire ! ' I cried to the Mississippians, 'give it to 'em, boys! ' 
Charge!' 

" And I blazed away with my pistol as I ran toward them. 
They did not wait for the expected charge — it turned out to be 
only a company — and broke and ran. I followed, and came to 
the man I had shot, who w^as dying. His gun was lying bv 
him, and I seized it, and fired on them as they were running ; 
but finding no one following me, I concluded I had better go 
back. When I got to the fortification I found Colonel Mott 
there, attracted by the firing; and showed him the gun I had 
brought back, telling him that they were Yankees. 

"' Certainly they were,' he replied, 'and the Lieutenant in 
command ought to have known that there were none of our 
troops on the left.' 

" As I had nothing to do, I proposed to the Colonel that if 
he would give me half-a-dozen men I would go and scout in 
front, and bring him any information I could procure of the 
enemy's movements. He agreed to this, and called for volun- 
teers. A dozen men stepped out, but I told him I did not want 
more than six ; and with these, I went along in the track of the 
party of Yankees. I remember one of them was named Bryant, 
a first-rate man, and he stuck to me all day, though he was 
wounded ; but he would not leave me. 

"Well, I followed the party, marching the men in single file, 
and looking out every moment for the Yankees. I came on 
their trail at last, and thought I could hear the hum of their 
voices just over a knoll in front of me. The woods there have 
hollows in them, and you can get very close to a party of men 
"without knowing it if they are in one of them. There was a 



442 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

hollow of this sort just before me, and the hill sloped up in such 
a way, that you could get right on them and not be perceived. 
I crept up the side of the hill, going from tree to tree, looking 
and listening. I could not see anybody, but I was sure 1 heard 
the hum of voices not far off; and I determined to reconnoitre 
and ascertain who the party were. I accordingly went cautiously 
up the hill, to peep over, leaving my men behind. 

" Just as I got near the top I heard the tramp of feet, and 
could see the heads of the men coming up the hill. The officer 
in command was walking in front, and before I knew it he was 
right on me, within three yards. 

" ' Dress up to the right ! ' he cried quickly to his men. 

*' ' Dress up, yourself, sir ! ' I shouted to him, suddenly. 

" And as I spoke, I levelled my carbine at his breast, fired, 
and shot him through the body. Before the enemy had reco- 
vered from their surprise, I shouted back, as if I was speaking to 
my company : 

" ' Charge 'em, men ! Fire on 'em ! Char-r-r-rge ! ' 

" And I set the example by firing my pistol as fast as I could 
at their heads, which was all I could see above the hill. They 
fired a volley at me, but their position was too unfavourable, 
and the bullets went whizzing high up in the trees. M}' men 
came up promptly, and we all took trees and commenced skir- 
mishing with them, neither side advancing, but keeping up a 
scattering fire all the time. 

" The captain, when I had shot hira, sat down on the ground, 
and remained there leaning his shoulder against the trunk of a 
tree. The tree I had dodged behind was not far off, and we 
carried on a conversation for some time ; I suppose about half 
an hour. I asked him why he had come down to the South, 
and he said he wished now that he had stayed at home, lie said 
a good many things, but I don't remember them now. His 
name was a singular one ; he told me what it was, and I've got it 
somewhere ; his company was the 47th Sharpshooters, New York. 

" I had shot away all my ammunition, and I got up and went 
to him, asking him for his pistol. He took hold of the belt, and 
tried to unbuckle it, but was too weak. 



ADVENTURES OF DARRELL. 4AS 

'^ ' It's no use,' he said, ' I can't undo it, and you had better 
go back. You will just make them shoot both of us.' 

" He did not look as if he was shot ; I could see no marks of a 
wound ; but soon after I had gone back to my tree, he raised his 
shoulder from the trunk which he was leaning against, sat up- 
right, and then fell upon his back, dead. 

" About this time there was a general advance of our line 
upon the enemy, all along ; and the company of sharpshooters 
fell back, firing as they *vent. Our troops came along, and charged 
their main line, which was posted behind a fence, some distance 
in front ; and here Colonel Mott was killed as he was leading 
the charge. I went along with them, but had first gotten the 
dead officer's sword. As soon as our men advanced, and the 
enemy went away, I came from behind the tree where I had 
been sitting down firing, and approached the body. He was 
lying on his back, with his eyes open — dead from my bullet, 
which had passed through his breast. I had no sword, having 
left mine behind that morning; so I unbuckled his belt, and 
drew it from under his body, and buckled it around my own 
waist. It had a good pistol and cap-pouch, besides the sword, 
on it — I have the sword still. 

"That was a hot day," concluded the Captain; " this was 

where Tom got wounded. He came up to a Federal officer, 

a finely dressed fellow, and ordered him to surrender. He 
obeyed, but made no motion to yield his arms. Tom said : 

" ' Give up your arms, sir ! ' 

" The officer handed over his sword which he held in his 
hand ; but did not seem to remember the pistol in his belt. 

" ' Give me your pistol ! ' exclaimed Tom, with a scowl at 
him. 

" ' I have surrendered my sword,' was the reply, ' spare me 
the disgrace, sir, of giving up my pistol also to a private I ' 

" He had surrendered his sword, but wished to spare himself 
the mortification of handing over his pistol ! Tom put his bay- 
onet at him, and he soon surrendered his pistol. 

" Soon afterwards Tom had a duel at ten yards distance, with 
a Yankee. Tiiey loaded and fired twenty times without hitting 



444 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

each other, until Tom made a good shot and bored him through 
the breast. He dropped his musket, threw up his hands and 
fell back. Tom was very soon wounded, however, and was 
firing still when Colonel Baldwin came along Mnth a led horse, 
and, as he knew him, put him on it. He was going to the rear 
when he saw General A. P. Hill, sitting by a stump, smoking ; 
and as the young man was an acquaintance, he asked him what 
was the matter. He informed him that he was wounded ; and 
the General took off" his cravat, and tied it around his leg, above 
the wound. Tom then rode on into Williamsburg. 

" That was my great fighting day, and some time or other I 
will tell you all about it. I had command of two or three regi- 
ments, and never had more fun in my life." 



XI. 

LONGBOW'S HORSE. 



I. 

My friend, Captain Longbow, is a very different personage from 
Captain Darrell. The latter is brave, honest, simple, and candid. 
He relates only what really occurred, and never unless you over- 
come his repugnance to such narratives : he is modest, retiring — 
the model of an officer and a gentleman. 

Longbow is a striking contrast, I am sorry to say, to all this. 
He is a tremendous warrior— according to his own account; he 
has performed prodigies — if you can only believe him ; more 
moving accidents and hairbreadth escapes have happened to 
him than to any other soldier in the service — if they have only 
happened. The element of confidence is thus wanting in the 
listener when Longbow discourses, and you are puzzled how 
much to believe, how much to disbelieve. But then the worthy 
is often amusing. He has some of the art of the raconteur, and 
makes his histories or stories, his real events or his fibs, to a 
certain degree amusing. I am always at a loss to determine how 
much of Longbow's narratives to believe ; but they generally 
make me laugh. It is certain that he mingles truth with them, 
for many incidents related by him, in the course of his narratives, 
are known to me as real circumstances ; and thus there ever 
remains upon the mind, when this worthy has ceased speaking, 
an impression that although the narrative is fabulous, portions 
of it are true. 



446 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

These prefatory words are intended to introduce the following 
account of Longbow's adventures in the Yallej, when General 
Johnston was opposed to General Patterson there, in the summer 
of 1861^ just before the battle of Manassas. Some of the inci- 
dents related I know to be true ; others, it is proper that I should 
warn the reader, I regard as purely romantic. The manner in 
which Longbow professed to have obtained his " blood bay " I 
believe to be imaginary ; the untimely end to which the animal 
came may not, doubtless is not, of historical verity, but it is cer- 
tain that an officer did kill his horse under the circumstances 
narrated. Thus the mind is left in a state of bewilderment as to 
how much is true and how much is false in the worthy's story ; 
and perhaps the safest proceeding would be to set down the 
whole as an " historical romance." 

I have thought it best to convey this caution to the reader, 
lest the narrative here given might cast discredit upon the other 
papers in these " Outlines," which contain, with the exception of 
" Corporal Shabrach" and " Blunderbus," events and details of 
strict historical accuracy. 

I have never told you, said Longbow, of the curious adven- 
tures which I met with in the Valle}^ in 1861, and how I got my 
fine blood bay, and lost him. I was then a private, but had 
just been detailed as volunteer aide to Colonel Jackson — he was 
not " General" or "Stonewall" yet — and had reported a few 
days before the engagement at Falling Waters. 

I need not inform you of the state of affairs at that time, 
further than to say that while Beauregard watched the enemy in 
front of Washington, with his headquarters at Manassas, Johnston 
held the Valley against Patterson, with his headquarters at Win- 
chester. Well, it was late in June, I think, when intelligence 
came that General Patterson was about to cross the Potomac at 
Williamsport, and Colonel Jackson was sent forward with the 
First Brigade, as it was then called, to support Stuart's cavalry, 
and feel the enemy, but not bring on a general engagement. 
This, the Colonel proceeded to do with alacrity, and he had soon 
advanced north of Martinsburg, and camped near the little vil- 



longbow's horse. 447 

lage of Hainesville — Stuart continuing in front watching the 
enemy on the river. 

This was the state of things, when suddenly one morning we 
were aroused by the intelligence that Patterson had crossed his 
army ; and Jackson immediately got his brigade under arms, 
intending to advance and attack him. He determined, however, 
to move forward first, with one regiment and a single gun — and 
this he did, the regiment being the Fifth Virginia, Colonel 
Harper, with one piece from Pendleton's battery. 

I will not stop here to describe the short and gallant fight near 
Falling Water, in which Jackson met the enemy with the same 
obstinac}^ which afterwards gave him his name of " Stonewall." 
Their great force, however, rendered it impossible for him to 
hold his ground with one regiment of less than four hundred 
men, and finding that he was being outflanked, he gave the order 
for his line to fall back, which was done in perfect order. It 
was at this moment that Colonel Jackson ppinted out a cloud of 
dust to me on the left, and said : 

" That is cavalry. They are moving to attack my left flank. 
Where is Stuart ? Can you find him ? " 

" I think so. Colonel." 

" Well, present my compliments to him, and tell him that the 
enem3''s cavalry will probably attack him. Lose no time, 
Captain." 

I obeyed at once, and passing across the line of fire, as the 
men fell back 'fighting, entered a clump of woods, and took a 
narrow road, which led in the direction I wished. 

My fortune was bad. I had scarcely galloped a quarter of a 
mile when I ran full tilt into a column of Federal cavalry, and 
suddenly heard their unceremonious " halt ! " 

Wheeling round, I dug the spurs into my horse, and darted 
into the woods, but I was too late. A volley came from the 
column ; my horse suddenly staggered, and advancing a few- 
steps, fell under me. A bullet had penetrated his body behind 
my knee, and I had scarcely time to extricate myself, when I 
was surrounded. I was forced to surrender, and did so to a 
gray-haired officer who came up a moment afterwards. 



448 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

He saluted me, and seeing my rank from my uniform, said : 

" I liope you are not hurt. Captain ? " 

" No, sir,"' I said angrily ; " and if my horse had not fallen, 
you would never have captured me." 

The old officer smiled. 

" When you are as old a soldier as I am, sir," he replied, 
"■you will not suffer these accidents to move you so much. Are 
you a line or staff officer? " 

" A staff officer." 

" Who commands yonder ? " 

" The ranking officer." 

Another smile came to his face. 

" I see you are prudent. Well, sir. I will not annoy you. 
Take this officer to the rear," he added to a subaltern ; " treat 
him well, but guard him carefully." 

The column continued its advance, and I was conducted to the 
rear. I heard the firing gradually recede toward Martinsburg, 
find knew that Jackson must be still falling back. Skirmishing 
on the right of the column I moved with, indicated the presence 
of Stuart ; but this too gradually receded, and soon word was 
passed along the line that the Colonel had received intelligence 
of the Confederates having retreated. This announcement was 
greeted with a cheer by the men, and the column continued to 
advance, but soon halted. 

That night I bivouacked by a camp fire, and on the next 
morning was conducted into Martinsburg, which the enemy had 
occupied in force. 

I was on foot, and of course had been deprived of my arms. 

I was placed in a house under guard, with some other Con- 
federate prisoners, and could only learn from the Federal Cor- 
poral that our forces had fallen back, south of the town, losing 
" a tremendous amount of stores, wagons, tents, commissary and 
quartermaster stores, and all they had." I laughed, in spite of 
myself, at this magniloquent statement, knowing in what 
" light marching order " Jackson had oeen, and resolved philo- 
sophically to await the progress of events. 

The day thus passed, and on the next morning I was aroused 



longbow's horse. 44:9 

from my bed upon the floor by a thundering salvo of artillery. 
I started up joyfully, fully convinced that Jackson was attack- 
ing the town, when the Corporal came in, and cried : 

" Hurrah for the glorious Fourth ! " 

" Fourth what ? " I said. 

"Why, Fourthof July !" 

" Oh, that is the cause of the firing, is it ? " I growled ; " then 
I'll finish my nap," 

And I again lay down. Soon afterwards a breakfast of " hard 
tack," pork, and coffee, was supplied to the prisoners, and I had 
just finished my meal when I was informed that General Patter- 
son had sent for me. Fifteen minutes afterwards I was conducted 
through the streets, swarming with blue-coats, galloping cavalry, 
and wagons, to a fine mansion in the southern suburbs of the 
town, where the commanding General had established his head- 
quarters — Colonel Falkner's. 

Here all was life and bustle ; splendidly caparisoned horses, 
held by orderlies, were pawing the turf of the ornamented 
grounds ; other orderlies were going and coming ; and the im- 
pression produced upon my mind was, that the orderly was an 
established institution. At the door was a sentinel with a mus- 
ket, and having passed this Cerberus, my guard conducted me to 
an apartment on the left, where I was received by a staff officer, 
whose scowling hauteur was exceedingly offensive. 

" Who are you ? " he growled, looking at me in the most inso- 
lent manner. 

" Who are you ? " was my response, in a tone equally friendly. 

" I will have no insolence," was his enraged reply. " Are 
you the prisoner sent for by the General ? " 

" I am, sir," was my reply ; " and I shall ascertain from Gene- 
ral Patterson whether it is by his order that an ofl&cer of the Con- 
federate States Army is subjected to your rudeness and insults." 

He must have been a poor creature ; for as soon as he found 
that I would not endure his brow-beating he became polite, and 
went to announce my arrival. 

I was left alone in the ante-room with an officer, who wrote 
so busily at his desk that he seemed not to have even been 

29 



450 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 



aware of any one's presence ; and this busy gentleman I after- 
wards discovered was General Patterson's Adjutant-General. 



II. 

I waited for half an hour, when I was informed that General 
Patterson was ready to see me. I found him seated at a table 
covered with papers, which stood in the middle of a large apart- 
ment filled with elegant furniture, and ornamented with a fine 
Brussels carpet. On the mantel-piece a marble clock ticked ; in 
Gothic bookcases were long rows of richly bound volumes ; the 
Federal commander had evidently selected his headquarters with 
an eye to comfort and convenience. 

He was a person of good figure and agreeable countenance ; 
and wore the full-dress uniform of a Major-General of the U. S. 
Army. As I entered he rose, advanced a step, and offered me 
his hand. 

" I am glad to make your acquaintance. Captain," he said ; 
then he added with a smile, "I doubt, however, if you are 
equally pleased at making mine." 

" Delighted, General, I assure you," was my reply, " though 
the incident to which I am indebted for this honour was rather 
rough." 

" What was that ? " 

"My horse was shot and fell with me." 

" That is a pity, and the thing was unfortunate. But war is 
altogether a rough business. I am disposed to agree with Frank- 
lin, Captain, that ' there never was a good war, or a bad peace.' 
But we will not discuss this vexed question — you are Captain 
Longbow, I believe." 

" Yes, sir." 

" Of Colonel Jackson's command? " 

" Of the command which engaged you the day before yester- 
day." 

General Patterson smiled. 

" I see you are reticent, and it is a good habit in a soldier. 



longbow's horse. 451 

But I know that Colonel Jackson commanded, and from his bold- 
ness in opposing me with so small a force, he must be a man of 
nerve and ability." 

" He has that reputation, General." 

" Do you know General Johnston ? " 

" Yes, sir." 

" I am afraid of his retreats. General Scott declares that one 
of them is equal to a victory." 

I assented with a bow. 

" Colonel Stuart, commanding your cavalry, I do not know," 
continued the General, " but I am afraid he gobbled up one of 
my companies of infantry just before the late fight. That makes 
the number of prisoners taken considerably in your favour. 
The company was commanded, however, only by a Second Lieu- 
tenant, and as I have you. Captain," he added with a smile, " the 
odds are not so great. 

The General's courtesy and good-humour began to put me in 
the same mood, and I said : 

" How long are you going to keep me, General ? not long, I 
hope." 

'* Not a day after I can have an exchange." 

"That may, however, be for a long time." 

" Possibly, but you shall be well treated. Captain." 

" I have no doubt of that. General, but you know the proverb, 
or what ought to be a proverb — ' to the exile honey itself is 
bitter.' Well, it is the same with prisoners." 

" You shall not be confined. I will take your parole, and you 
can then have the freedom of the town of Martinsburg. Win- 
chester, too, if you wish." 

" I am very much obliged to you, especially for Winchester, 
General — but I cannot accept." 

'' Why not ? " 

" Because I am going to try to escape." 

The General began to laugh. 

" You will find it impossible," he replied ; " even if you eluded 
the sentinel you could not get through my lines. The pickets 
would stop you." 



452 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

"General," I said, "you are really so very courteous, and our 
interview is so completely divested of all formality, that I am 
tempted to presume upon it." 
■ " In >what manner ? " 

" By offering to make you a bet." 

" A bet ! Well, what is it ? " said the General, laughing. 

" This. My horse was killed, and as we poor Confederates are 
not over rich, I will lay you a horse and equiprhents that I make 
my escape." 

The General greeted this proposal with evident enjoyment. 

"In what time? " he asked. 

" Before you reach Richmond." 

He made a humorous grimace. 

" Richmond is a long way off. Captain — let the limit be the 
1st day of August, and I will agree." 

" Very well, General ; I will pay my bet if I lose ; and if I win, 
you will send me my horse through the lines." 

" Most assuredly." 

At this moment an orderly brought in a dispatch, which the 
General read with attention. 

" From the front," he said. " Jackson is at Darkesville, Cap- 
tain, and is preparing to make a stand there." 

"And you will attack, I suppose, in a day or two. Gene- 
ral?" 

These words were greeted with a quick glance, to which I re- 
sponded innocently : 

" As I have no chance to escape in that time, you could reply 
without an indiscretion, could you not. General ? " 

" Caution is never amiss, my dear Captain," he replied ; " I pay 
you a compliment in imitating your own reticence. But here is 
unother dispatch. Excuse me while I read it." 

The contents of the paper seemed to be important; for the 
General turned to his table, and began to write busily. His back 
was turned to me, and seeing a newspaper lying in the ante- 
chamber, I rose and went to procure it. 

" You are not leaving me. Captain ? " the General called out, 
without turning round. 



longbow's house. ■ 453 

" Is it forbidden to go into the ante-room, General ? " 

" Not at all — you can't escape, as my sentinel is too good a 
soldier to permit an officer in Confederate uniform to pass ! " 

And he went on writing. 

His words operated upon my mind like a challenge ; and at 
the same moment my eye fell upon two objects, the sight of 
which tlirilled through every nerve. These objects were simply a 
light linen overall lying upon a chair, and on a table the tall 
blue hat of the Adjutant-General, encircled with its golden cord. 
At the same instant a shrill neigh attracted my attention to the 
grounds without ; and looking through the window, I saw an 
orderly holding a magnificent horse, from which an officer had 
just descended. 

In one instant I had formed an audacious resolution ; and sit- 
ting down at a table upon which were pen, ink, and paper, I 
wrote : 

" Captain Longbow presents his compliments to General Pat- 
terson, and informs him that he is about to make an attempt to 
win the bet just made. There is an excellent horse now at the 
door, which has only to be secured in case Captain Longbow 
can pass the sentinel — when his escape will not be difficult in spite 
of the pickets. 

'^ Headquarters of General Patterson, July 4, 1861." 

I had just placed this note in an envelope, and directed it to 
"Major-General Patterson, com'd'g, etc," when the Adjutant- 
General turned his head, and said courteously : 

" Are you writing a letter, Captain ? " 

" Yes, sir," I said. 

" To send through the lines, I suppose. If you give me your 
word of honour that it contains only private matter, and nothing 
contraband, I will forward it unread by the first flag of truce." 

I paused a moment, and then made up my mind. 

" It is not to go through the lines," I said ; " it is addressed to 
General Patterson." 

" Ah ! " said the officer. 

" Yes, sir. It refers to a subject upon which the General and 
snyself were conversing when we were interrupted. I do not 



4:54 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

wish to trouble him further at present, as he seems busy ; but if 
you will have the goodness to hand it to him this evening or to- 
morrow, I will be greatly indebted to you." 

" I will do so with pleasure, Captain," said this most courteous 
of enemies; and taking the note, he placed it in one of the pigeon- 
holes of his desk. 

At the same moment the officer who had dismounted from the 
fine horse was introduced, and soon afterwards my pulse leaped. 
The voice of General Patterson was heard calling his Adjutant- 
General ; and that officer hastened to the inner room, closing the 
door after him. 



III. 

I did not lose an instant. Seizing the light linen overall, I put 
it on and buttoned it up to the chin, as though to guard my 
uniform from the dust ; and throwing my brown felt hat under 
the table, placed upon my head the high-crowned blue one, with 
its golden cord and tassel. I then opened the outer door ; negli- 
gently returned the salute of the sentinel, who came to a "pre- 
sent" with his musket at sight of my cord and tassel; and 
walked out to the gate, which was set in a low hedge, above 
which appeared the head of the splendid animal I had deter- 
mined to " capture." 

Every instant now counted. My ruse might at any moment 
be discovered; for on the Adjutant- General's return to his room, 
he must observe my absence. It was necessary to act rapidly, 
and with decision. 

Strolling with a careless air to the spot where the orderly 
stood, holding his own and the officer's bridle, I patted the 
horse on the neck, and said : 

" That is a fine animal." 

" Yes, sir," replied the orderly, touching his hat to the Adjutant- 
Generals hat ; " the Colonel paid six hundred dollars for him 
Duly last week," 

" Excellent equipments, too," and I raised up the flap of one 
of the holsters, which contained a pair of silver-mounted pistols. 



longbow's horse. 455 

In an instant I had drawn one of the weapons, cocked it, and 
placed it at the orderly's head. 

" I am a Confederate prisoner, determined to escape or die," 
I said. " If you move I will blow your brains out. Wait until I 
get a fair start, and then tell your Colonel I took his horse by 
force!" 

With one bound I was in the saddle, and turning the horse's 
head to the fence on the south of the house, cleared it, and set 
out at full speed for a wood near by. As I did so, I saw a sud- 
den tumult, and crowds running about at the house, among 
whom I recognised the Adjutant-General. 

" Good-by, Major," I called out ; " I will send your hat and 
coat by flag of truce ! " 

And in a moment I had gained the clump of woods, and was 
out of sight. 

My captured horse was an animal of superb action, and I soon 
found that I must make him show his points. As I looked 
over my shoulder, I saw a company of cavalry — evidently the 
body-guard of the General, whose horses always remained sad- 
dled — leave the town, and follow furiously upon my track. 

Between these and the pickets which would certainly bar my 
passage, I seemed to stand little chance ; but it was worth the 
trial, and I went on at full speed, keeping as much as possible 
in the woods. Stopping for nothing in the shape of a 'fence, I 
made straight across tlie country, and gradually seemed distanc- 
ing my pursuers. What words, however, can describe my mor- 
tification when, issuing from a dense covert, I found they had 
followed by a parallel road, and were on my very heels ! I 
heard the tramp of their horses, and the quick shout they gave 
as they caught sight of me. 

Then commenced on the narrow wood road what is called a 
"stern chase" at sea. It was a question of the speed of our 
horses; but I found, unfortunately, that my pursuers were as 
well mounted as myself. They were steadily gaining on me, 
when I ran straight into a regiment of infantry, who had pitched 
their small tents de Varbre, under the trees. The quarter-guard, 
however, made no effort to stop me, and I shot past the camp, 



456 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

but in four hundred yards came in sight of the cavalry 
pickets. 

It was now " neck or nothing." I had to ride through or 
over every obstacle in my way, or surrender. The picket con- 
sisted of about a company of cavalry, every man standing by his 
horse ; and as I approached, the officer came out, evidently sup- 
posing that I brought him some important message. 

The officer staggered back, nearly knocked down by my 
horse ; and I passed on, followed by a quick volley which did 
not harm me. I knew now that if once I could pass the exter- 
nal pickets, my escape would be certain ; and all at once I came 
on them. The picket consisted of four or five mounted men ; and 
as I approached, the vidette in the middle of the road ordered 
me to halt, presenting his carbine. I drew my revolver and 
fired, and at the same moment he discharged his Carbine, but 
missed me. 

I do not know whether I struck him or not. I went past 
him, and did not look back to see. Suddenly the whole picket 
fired, and the bullets hissed close to me; but not one touched me 
or my horse, and I was free ! In ten minutes I was out of sight, 
and in five minutes more saw the Confederate pickets in front 
of me. 

They received me rather roughly. The vidette fired on me 
and then ran, and I followed him. A hundred yards further I 
drove in the whole external picket, which retired firing. 

The first person I saw near the " Big Spring " was Colonel 
Stuart, with his cavalry drawn up in line of battle. As soon as 
he recognised me he burst into laughter, and cried : " Ho, ho ! 
here's Longbow in a Yankee uniform ! " 

"Exactly, Colonel." 

" Where are you from? " 

"Martinsburg — driving in your pickets on the way." 

" No wonder," laughed Stuart. " Your appearance is enough 
to frighten a whole brigade. I hope my pickets fired on you 
before they ran." 

"Furiously, Colonel, as the enemy were doing behind." 

" But how did you escape ? I was truly sorry to hear from 



longbow's horse. 457 

Jackson that you had ridden to look for me, and never turned 
up afterwards." 

I briefly related my adventures, and offered my horse, hat, and 
pistols in proof. Stuart listened, laughing heartily, and when I 
had finished, said : 

'' So all that firing was only a Fourth of July salute ! I thought 
so, but never take anything on trust ; so I've been ready all 
the morning, and thought when the picket fired that you were 
the enemy." 

Soon afterwards I parted from this great soldier ; and riding 
on, found Jackson at Darkesville, to whom I reported, receiving 
his congratulations upon my escape. 

But I must hasten on and tell you about my horse. 



lY. 

A few days afterwards I was at General Johnston's headquar- 
ters, and ascertaining that he was about to send a flag through 
the lines, thought it a good opportunity to return the Adjutant- 
General's hat and coat. I therefore rolled up these articles, and 
wrote a note to accompany them, thanking the Major for the use 
of them, and begging him to excuse the little liberty I had taken 
in appropriating them. 

I went with the flag ; and when the business of the interview 
was transacted, gave the hat, coat, and note, to the Federal officer 
who met us, and who was a gentleman of good-sense and breed- 
ing. He laughed when I explained how I had procured the ar- 
ticles, and informed me that he had already heard the story. 

" I even heard there was a bet between you and General Pat- 
terson," he said. "Is that the fact. Captain? and what was the 
amount ? " 

"It was not money, but a horse and equipments, which the 
General has lost." 

" Then he will certainly pay, and he has some very fine 
horses." 

" I am afraid lie has forgotten me." 



458 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

" On the contrary, he has remembered you, Captain," said the 
officer, smiling ; and at a sign from him a mounted man led for- 
ward a beautiful bay, splendidly equipped, which every member 
of the party had been looking at and admiring. 

" The General requested me to send this horse to you. Cap- 
tain," said the officer ; " but as you are present, I deliver him in 
person. He is a splendid animal, and I only hope I shall soon 
have the pleasure of capturing you, and getting him into my 
own possession." 

Everybody began to laugh, and admire my horse. I mounted 
and put him at a fence, which he went over like a deer. 

"Thank the General for me, Major; his horse is excellent," I 
said. 

" I will do so with pleasure ; this is really the poetry of war 1" 

And saluting each other, the two parties separated. 

I have thus told you how I got my fine blood bay. He was 
a magnificent animal. I will next proceed to inform you how I 
lost him. 

Two da3^s afterwards I was riding out with Colonel Jackson, 
when General Johnston, wholly unattended, met him, and the 
two officers rode on, in earnest conversation, pointing as they 
did so to the various hills and knolls which afforded good posi- 
tions for troops. I had fallen back some distance to allow them 
to converse without reserve, when all at once I saw General 
Johnston turn and look at me ; then Jackson beckoned to me. 
I rode up and saluted the General, who gravely returned the 
bow, and said : 

" Captain, I have determined to send you to Manassas with a 
dispatch to General Beauregard, which I wish delivered at once. 
The dispatch will be ready in two hours from this time, and I 
would like to have you set off at once. Can you do so ? " 

" Yes, sir," I replied ; " this moment, if necessary." 

"Very good ; ride back with me to headquarters, and I will 
give you a message also." 

I followed the General back to Darkesville, waited an hour, 
and then was sent for, and received the dispatch and instruc- 
tions. On the same night I set out on my bay horse, and by 



longbow's hoese. 459 

moruing was at General Beauregard's headquarters, and had 
delivered the dispatch. An hour afterwards I was sound asleep. 

I was waked by the clatter of hoofs, and rising, found couriers 
going and coming. 

" What is the matter? " I asked of an orderly. 

" The Yankees are coming," he replied, "and they are already 
near Fairfax Court-house." 

I immediately hurried to General Beauregard, and found him 
about to mount and ride out on the lines. At sight of me, he 
exclaimed — 

"Good! I was just about to send for you, Captain. The 
enemy are upon us, and I wish General Johnston to know that 
if he desires to help me, now is the time." 

" I will carry the message, General." 

" "Will your horse hold out? " 

" Yes, sir." 

" Well, tell General Johnston the condition of things here. A 
very large force of the enemy are within a few miles of me, and 
are still advancing. Say to the General simply this — that if he 
wishes to help me, now is the time." 

With these words General Beauregard saluted me, and rode on. 
I immediately called for my horse, mounted, and set off at a 
rapid gallop for the Valley. 

General Patterson's present was now destined to be subjected 
to a hard trial. I had already ridden him nearly fifty miles 
within the last twentj^-four hours, and was about to pass over the 
very same ground almost without allowing him any rest. 

I galloped on toward Thoroughfare. My bay moved splen- 
didly, and did not seem at all fatigued. He was moving with 
head up, and pulling at the rein. 

" Good ! my gallant bay ! " I said ; " if you go on at that rate 
we'll soon be there!" 

I had not counted on the heat of the July weather, however ; 
and when I got near Salem my bay began to flag a little. I 
pushed him with the spur, and hurried on. Near Paris he began 
to wheeze ; but I pushed on, using the spur freely, and drove him 
up the mountain road, and along the gap to the river. This we 



460 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

forded, and in the midst of the terrible heat I hurried on over 
the turnpike. 

My bay had begun to pant and stagger at times ; but there 
was no time to think of his condition. I had undertaken to 
deliver 'General Beauregard's message ; and I must do so, on 
horseback or on foot, without loss of time. I dug the spur into 
my panting animal and rushed on. 

At Millwood some citizens gathered in the middle of the street 
to ask the news. I continued the gallop without stopping, and 
in an hour approached Winchester, where Johnston had estab- 
lished his general headquarters. 

Beyond the Opequon my bay staggered, blood rushed from 
his nostrils, and his eyes glared; as I neared the town the spur 
scarcely raised him ; from his chest issued a hollow groan. 

All at once an officer, followed by some couriers, appeared at 
a turn of the road, and I recognised General Johnston. 

In an instant I was at his side, and had delivered my message. 

" Very good ! " exclaimed the General ; " and I am greatly 
obliged by your prgmptness ; but look at your horse, Captain — 
he is dying ! " 

At the same instant my bay fell, and rolled over. 

"You are wrong. General," I said, as I sprang up; " he is 
dead ! " 

In fact he was then gasping in the death agony, and in ten 
minutes he was dead. 

" Pity you should lose so fine an animal, Captain," said the 
General. 

" Easy come, easy go. General. I got him from General Pat- 
terson — I believe Colonel Jackson told you how." 

" Ah ! that is the horse? Well, sir, I will give you one of my 
own in place of him, for he has enabled you to bring me informa- 
tion, upon the receipt of which the result of the battle at Ma- 
]iassas depended." 

" I wonder if General Patterson contemplated such a thing, 
General, when he sent me the horse." 

"Doubtful!" replied Johnston, with his calm, grim smile; 
and saluting me, he rode away rapidly. 



longbow's horse. 461 

Six hours afterwards his army was in motion for Manassas, 
where the advance arrived on the night of the 20th of July. 
On the next day Jackson's brigade held the enemy in check, and 
Kirby Smith ended the fight by his assault upon their right. 
Jackson and Smith belonged to the Array of the Shenandoah, 
and this will show you that without that army the battle would 
have been lost. 

/ brought that army, my dear friend, by means of General 
Patterson's bay horse ! 

Such was the narrative of Captain Longbow, and I would like 
to know how much of it is true. The incident of the hard ride, 
and the death of the Captain's horse especially, puzzles me. 
That incident is veracious, as I have once before said ; but a 
serious question arises as to whether Longbow bore that mes- 
sage ! I have a dim recollection that my friend Colonel Surry 
told me once that he had been sent to Beauregard ; had killed his 
horse ; and the high character of the Colonel renders it impossi- 
ble to doubt any statement which he makes. I expect him on 
a visit soon, as he intends to make a little scout, he tells me, to 
Fauquier to see a young lady — a Miss Beverley — there, and 
doubtless will call by ; then I shall ask him what are the real 
facts of this affiiir. 

Meanwhile my friend Longbow is entitled to be heard ; and I 
have even taken the trouble to set down his narrative for the 
amusement of the friend to whom it will be sent. If Colonel 
Surry ever composes his memoirs, as I believe is his intention, 
the real truth on this important point will be recorded. Until 
then — Vive Longbow ! 



XII. 
EOSLYN AND THE WHITE HOUSE; 

"before and after.'- 



" Quantum mutatus ah ilh ! " That is an exclamation which 
rises to the lips of many persons on many occasions in time of 
war. 

In 1860, there stood on the left bank of the Chickahorainy, 
in the connty of New Kent, an honest old mansion, with which 
the writer of this page was intimately acquainted. Houses 
take the character of those who build them, and this one was 
Virginian, and un-" citified." In place of flues to warm the 
apartments, there were big fires of logs. In place of gas to 
light the nights, candles, or the old-fashioned " astral " lamps. 
On the white walls there were no highly coloured landscape 
paintings, but a number of family portraits. There was about 
the old mansion a cheerful and attractive air of home and wel- 
come, and in the great fireplaces had crackled the yule clogs 
of many merry Christmases. The stables were large enough 
to accommodate the horses of half a hundred guests. The old 
garden contained a mint patch which had supplied that plant 
for the morning juleps of many generations. Here a number 
of worthy old planters had evidently lived their lives, and passed 
away, never dreaming that the torch of war would flame in their 
borders. 

The drawing-room was the most cheerful of apartments ; and 
the walls were nearly covered with portraits. From the bright 
or faded canvas looked down beautiful dames, with waists just 
beneath their arms, great piles of curls, and long lace veils ; and 



ROSLYN AND THE WHITE HOUSE. 463 

fronting these were gentlemen with queer blue coats, brass but- 
tons, snowy ruffles, hair brushed back, and English side- whis- 
kers. The child in the oval frame above the mantel-piece — 
with the golden curls, and the little hand on the head of her 
pet dog — could look at her father and mother, grandfather, 
grandmother, and great-grandmother, almost without turning 
her head. Four generations looked down from the walls of the 
old mansion ; about it was an indefinable but pervading air 
of Tiome. 

Of the happy faces which lit up this honest old mansion 
when I saw it first, I need not speak. Let me give a few words, 
however, to a young man who was often there — one of my 
friends. He was then in the bloom of youth, and enjoyed the 
spring-days of his life. • Under the tall old trees, in the bright 
parlour full of sunshine, or beneath the shadow of the pine-wood 
near, he mused, and dreamed, and passed the idle hours of his 
" early prime." He was there at Roslyn in the sweetest sea- 
son of the year; in spring, when the grass was green, and the 
peach-blossom red, and the bloom of the apple-tree as white as 
the driven snow; in summer, "when the days were long " and 
all the sky a magical domain of piled-up clouds upon a sea of 
blue ; and in the autumn, when the airs were dreamy and mem- 
orial — the woods a spectacle from faery-land, with their purple, 
gold, and orange, fading slow. Amid these old familiar scenes, 
the youth I write of wandered and enjoyed himself War 
had not come with its harsh experiences and hard realities — 
its sobs and sighs, its anxieties and hatreds — its desolated homes, 
and vacant chairs, and broken hearts. Peace and youth nuide 
every object bright ; and wandering beneath the pines, dream- 
ing his dreams, the young man passed many sunny hours, and 
passed them, I think, rationally. His reveries brought him no 
money, but they were innocent. He had "never a penny to 
spare," but was rich in fancy ; few sublunary funds, but a heavy 
balance to his credit in the Bank of Cloudland ; no house to 
call his own, but a number of fine chateaux, where he entered 
as a welcome guest, nay, as their lord ! Those brave chateaux 
stood in a country unsurpassed, and those who have lived there 



464 WE'ARING OF THE GRAY. 

say no air is purer, no sky more bright. War does not come 
there, nor the hum of trade ; grief and care fly away ; sorrow 
is unknown ; the doors of these old chateaux are closed against 
all that carries that most terrible of maladies, the Heartache. 

They were Chateaux en Esjpagne, you will say, good reader ; 
and truly they were built in that fine land. Do you know a 
better? I do not. 

Many years have passed since the youth I speak of wan- 
dered amid these happy scenes ; but I know that the dead 
years rise like phantoms often before his eyes, and hover 
vague and fitful above the waves of that oblivion which can- 
not submerge them. "While memory lives they will be traced 
upon her tablets, deeper and more durable than records cut 
on " monumental alabaster." The r6se, the violet, and the 
hyacinth have passed, but their magical odour is still floating 
in the air — not a tint of the sky, a murmur of the pines, or a 
song of the birds heard long ago, but lives for ever in his 



memory 



But I wander from my subject, which is Roslyn " before 
and after." • The reader has had a glimpse of the old house as 
it appeared in the past ; where is it, and what is it now? 

That question will be best answered by a description of my 
last visit to the well-known locality. It was a day or two 
after the battle of Cold Harbour, and I was going with a 
few companions toward the White House, whither the cav- 
alry had preceded us. I thought I knew the road ; I was sure 
of being upon it; but I did not recognise a single locality. 
War had reversed the whole physiognomy of the country. 
The traces of huge camps were visible on the once smiling 
fields ; the pretty winding road, once so smooth, was all fur- 
rowed into ruts and mud-holes ; the trees were hewn down ; 
the wayside houses dismantled ; the hot breath of war had 
passed over the smiling land and blasted it, effacing all its 
beauty. With that beauty, every landmark had also disap- 
peared. I travelled over the worn-out road, my horse stum- 
bling and plunging. N'ever had I before visited, I could have 
made oath, this portion of Virginia ! 



ROSLYN AND THE WHITE HOUSE. 465 

All at once we came — I and the "merry comrades" who 
accompanied me — in sight of a great waste, desolate-looking 
field, of a clump of towering trees, and a mansion which the 
retreating enemy had just burned to the ground. There were 
no fences around this field ; the roads were obliterated, deep 
ruts marking where army wagons had chosen the more level 
ground of the meadow, or had "doubled" in retiring; no 
landmarks were distinguishable. I recognised nothing — and 
yet something familiar in the appearance of the landscape 
struck me, and all at once the thought flashed on me, " I know 
this place ! I know those peach-trees by the garden-fence ! 
the lawn, the stables, the great elms ! — this is Roslyn ! " 

It was truly Roslyn, or rather the ghost of it. What a spec- 
tacle ! The fair fields were trodden to a quagmire ; the fences 
had been swept away ; of the good old mansion, once the 
abode of joy and laughter, of home comfort and hospitality, 
there remained only a pile of smoking bricks, and two lugu- 
brious, melancholy chimneys which towered aloft like phan- 
toms ! 

I heard afterwards the house's history. First, it had been 
taken as the headquarters of one of the Federal generals; then 
it was used as a hospital. Why it was burned I know not; 
whether to destroy, in accordance with McClellan's order, all 
medical and other stores which could not be removed, or from 
wanton barbarity, it is impossible to say. I only know that it 
was entirely destroyed, and that when I arrived, the old spot 
was the picture of desolation. Some hospital tents still stood 
in the yard with their comfortable beds ; and many articles of 
value were scattered about — among others, an exquisitely 
mounted pistol, all silver and gilding, which a boy had picked 
up and wished me to purchase. I did not look at him, and 
scarcely saw the idle loungers of the vicinity who strolled about 
with apathetic faces. It was the past and present of Eoslyn 
that occupied my mind — the recollection of the bright scenes 
of other years, set suddenly and brutally against this dark pic- 
ture of ruin. There were the tall old trees, under which I used 
to wander ; there was the wicker seat where I passed so many 

30 



466 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

tranquil hours of reverie in the long, still afternoons, when 
tiie sun sank slowly to the western woods ; there was the sandy 
road ; the dim old pine-wood ; the flower-garden — every object 
which surrounded me in the glad hours of youth — but Roslyn 
itself, the sunny old mansion, where the weeks and months had 
passed so joyously, where was Eoslyn ? That smouldering 
heap of debris, and those towering, ghost-like chimneys, re- 
plied. From the shattered elms, and the trodden flowers, the 
genius of the place seemed to look out, sombre and hopeless. 
From the pine-trees reaching out yearning arms toward the 
ruin, seemed to come a murmur, " Roslyn ! Roslyn ! " 

In war you have little time for mnsing. Duty calls, and the 
blast of the bugle jars upon the reveries of the dreamer, sum- 
moning him again to action. I had no time to dream over 
the faded glories, the dead splendour of Roslyn ; those " merry 
comrades " whereof I spoke called to me, as did the friends of 
the melancholy hero visitor to Locksley Hall, and I was soon 
en route again for the White House. 

This was McClellan's great depot of stores on the Pamunkey, 
which he had abandoned when deciding npon the James river 
line of retreat — " change of base, " if you prefer the phrase, 
reader — and to the White House General Stuart had luirried 
to prevent if possible the destruction of the stores. He was too 
late. The ofiicer in charge of the great depot had applied the 
torch to all, and retreated ; and when the cavalry arrived, 
nothing was visible but a black-hulled gunboat which slunk 
away down the stream, chased by the shots of the Horse Ar- 
tillery under Pelham. Behind them they left fire and de- 
struction ; a scene in which a species of barbaric and disgust- 
ing splendoiir seemed to culminate. 

Strange moment for my first visit to the White House ! to a 
spot which I had seen often in fancy, but never before with the 
mortal eye. For this place was one of those historic localities 
where the forms and voices of the " mighty men of old " ap- 
peared still to linger. Here young Colonel Washington, after 
that bloody march of Braddock, had paused on his journey to 
Williamsburg to accept the hospitalities of John Parke Custis. 



ROSLYN AND THE WHITE HOUSE. 467 

Here he had spent hour after hour conversing with the fair 
young widow who was to become Mrs. Washington, while his 
astonished body-servant held the bridle for him to mount ; here 
he had been married ; here were spent many happy days of a 
great life— a century at least before the spot saluted my gaze ! 

In this old locality some of the noblest and fairest forms that 
eye ever beheld had lived their lives in the dead years. Here 
gay voices had echoed, bright eyes had shone ; here a sort ot 
masquerade of ruffles and silk stockings, furbelows and flounces, 
and lace and embroidery, and powder and diamonds, was 
played still in the eyes of fancy ! The White House had been 
to the present writer an honest old Virginia mansion of colo- 
nial days, full of warm hearts, and kindness and hospitality, 
where bright eyes outshone " the gloss of satin and glimmer of 
pearls ;" where the winding river flowed amid blooming fields, 
l)eneath lofty trees, and the suns of earlier years shone down on 
Washington and his bride. 

Again, as at the White House — quantum mutatus ah illo ! 

Let me outline the objects that met my view as I galloped 
up the avenue, between the great trees which had seen pass 
beneath them the chariots of other generations. The house, like 
Roslyn, was a ruin still smouldering. No traces of it were 
left but overthrown walls, bricks calcined and shattered, and 
charred timbers still sending up lurid smoke. The grounds 
were the picture of desolation ; the flower-beds, once carefully 
tended by fair hands, had been trampled beneath the feet of 
Federal soldiery ; the trees were twisted or champed by the 
cavalry horses ; and the fences had been long since torn up and 
burned. The mansion was gone ; it had passed like a dream 
away. The earth upon which the feet of Washington had trod- 
den so often was a waste ; the house which stood upon the site 
of that former one in which he was married, had been swept 
away by the hot breath of war. 

On each side of the avenue were the beds of an extensive 
field hospital. The enemy had carried oflf the large " hospital 
tents;" but the long rows of excellent beds, carefully protected 
from the damp of the earth by plank floors, had not been re- 



468 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

moved. Here were the general headquarters of disease ; the 
camp of the sick, the dying, and the dead. The arrange- 
ments were admirable. The alleys between the tents were 
wide ; the beds of the best quality, with ornamental coverlids, 
brought probably by friends ; and everywhere lay about, in 
admired disorder, books, pamphlets, magazines, journals, with 
which the sick had doubtless wiled away the tedious hours. 
Many Bibles and Testaments were lying on the ground ; and 
Harper's " JMonthly " and " Weekly " were seen in great num- 
bers, their open pages exhibiting terrific engravings of the 
destruction of rebels, and the triumph of their " faction." 
Here were newspapers fixing exactly the date of General 
McClellan's entrance into Richmond ; with leading editorials 
so horrible in their threatenings, that the writers must have 
composed them in the most comfortable sanctums, far away 
from the brutal and disturbing clash of arms. For the rest, 
there was a chaos of vials, medicines, boxes, half-burnt lemons ; 
and hundreds of empty bottles, bearing the labels, "Chateau 
Margot," " Lafitte," " Clicquot," " Bordeaux," and many 
others — the very sight of which spolia of M. S. nearly drove 
the hungry and thirsty Confederates to madness ! 

It was a sombre and frightful spot. Infection and contagion 
seemed to dwell there — for who could tell what diseases had 
afflicted the occupants of these beds ? No article was touched 
by the troops ; fine coloured blankets, variegated shirts, orna- 
mental caps, and handkerchiefs, and shawls, remained undis- 
turbed. One object, however, tempted me; and, dismounting, 
I picked it up. It was a little black lace veil, lying upon one 
of the beds, and evidently had belonged to a woman. I looked 
at it, musing, and asking myself whether it had belonged to 
wife, sister, or daughter — and I pitied her. This girl or 
woman, I thought, had probably no hatred in her heart 
toward us ; if she had been consulted, there would have been 
no war ; her child, or her husband, or her brother, would have 
stayed at home with her, leaving his " Southern brethren " in 
peace. Women are best after all ; and, doubtless, they of the 
North would even yet end this " cruel war" if they could ; 



ROSLYN AND THE WHITE HOUSE. 469 

would shatter the sword, break the musket to pieces, and sink 
the rifled cannon a thousand fathoms deep in the waters of the 
Atlantic ! If tlie women of the North could have their way, 
I think they would call to those who remain alive to return to 
them, — would heal their broken hearts, and joyfully bid the 
" erring sisters " go in peace — furling the battle-flag for ever. 
This daughter, or sister, or wife, may have been one of these 
angels ; perhaps she did not see that she had dropped her lace 
veil — she was crying, poor thing ! 

A curious subject for reverie — a lace veil picked up in an 
enemy's camp ; but such are the vagaries of the human mind. 
It seemed strange to me there, — that delicate woman's veil, 
in the Plague City, on the hot arena of war. 

Passing the hospital and the ruined mansion, I hastened to 
the locality of the camp ; and here the wh«jle wild scene burst 
on the eye. I cannot describe it. Stench, glare, insufferable 
heat, and dense, foul, lurid smoke — there was the " general 
impression." A city had been laid out here, and this was now 
in flames. Jews, pedlers, hucksters, and army followers of 
every description, had thronged here; had worked like beavers, 
hammering up long rows of " shanties" and sutlers' shops; had 
covered the plain with a cloud of tents ; and every steamer 
from New York had brought something to spread upon the 
improvised counters of the rising city. Moses and Levi and 
Abraham had rushed in with their highly superior stock of 
goods, going oft" at an enormous sacrifice ; Jonathan and Slick 
had supplied the best quality of wooden hams and nutmegs ; 
Daiierflinger and Sauerkraut had brought the best malt liquors 
and lager, with brandy and whiskey and gin under the rose. 
In a few weeks a metropolis of sutlerdom had thus sprung up 
like a mushroom ; and a whole host of pedlers and hucksters 
had scratched and burrowed, and made themselves nests like 
Norway rats ; — the very place smelled of them. 

The rats had thus gone tar in building their capital of Rat- 
dom ; but those cruel terriers, the Confederates, had discovered 
them, given chase, and scattered them to the four winds, to 
return no more ! Their own friends struck them the heaviest 



470 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

blow. The oflBcer commanding at the White House had 
promptly obeyed the orders sent him, and the nascent city was 
set fire to without mercy. When the Confederates arrived, the 
long rows of sutlers' stores, the sheds on the wliarf, the great 
piles of army-stores, the surplus guns, pistols, sabres, and the 
engines on the railroad, were wrapt in roaring flames. From 
this great pile of fire rose a black and suffocating smoke, drift- 
ing far away across the smiling landscape of June. Destruc- 
tion, like some Spirit of Evil, sat enthroned on the spot, and 
his red bloodshot eye seemed to glare through the lurid cloud. 
The heat was frightful, but I rode on into the midst of the 
disgusting or comic scenes — advancing over the ashes of the 
main bulk of the stores which had been burned before our 
ariival. In this great chaos were the remnants of all imagin- 
able things which a great army needs for its comfort or luxury 
in the field. Barrels of pork and flour ; huge masses of fresh 
beef; boxes of hard bread and cakes ; hogsheads of sugar and 
molasses ; bags of coffee and beans, and all conceivable " army 
stores " — had been piled up here in a great mass nearly a quar- 
ter of a mile long, and set on fire in many places. The remains 
of the stores were still burning, and emitted a most disgusting 
odour; next came the row of sutlers' sho])S, amoiig which the 
advance guard of the cavalry had scattered themselves in 
search of edibles. These were found in profusion, from barrels 
of excellent hams, and crackers and cakes, to the luxuries so 
costly in the Confederate capital, of candy and comfits, lemons 
and oranges, bottles of Jamaica ginger, and preserved fruits. 
There was no little interest in a walk through that debris of 
sutlerdom. You knocked in the head of a barrel, entirely 
ignorant whether hard bread or candy, pork or preserved 
strawberries, would greet your curious eyes. The box which 
you dashed to pieces with an axe might contain fine shoes and 
elastic socks, or excellent combs and hair-brushes, or snowy 
shirt bosoms and delicate paper collars, penknives, pickles, 
portmonnaies, or perfumes. All these things were found, of the 
last New York fashion, abandoned by the sutler rats, no doubt 
with inexpressible anguisli. The men helped themselves freely 



ROSLYN AND THE WHITE HOUSE. 471 

to everything which they took a fancy to, and revelled for that 
day in a plenty which repaid them for all their hard- 
ships. 

One amusing example of the wholesale destruction was fur- 
nished by the barrels of fresh eggs set on fire. But they were 
only half burned. The salt in which they had been packed 
resisted the fire ; and the result was that the eggs were only 
roasted. They could not have been prepared more excellently 
for the visitors ; and every taste was gratified. Some were 
charred and roasted hard, others less than tlie first, others 
again were only heated through. You could take your choice 
without difiiculty ; nothing more was necessary than to take 
them from their beds of salt ; and a pinch of that salt, which 
was excellent, made them palatable. Crackers were at hand ; 
jars of preserved fruits of all descriptions. There were straw- 
berries and figs and dates for dessert ; and whole boxes of to- 
bacco, if you wished to smoke after your meal. The greatest 
luxury of all was iced lemonade. The day was terribly hot, 
and the men, like their horses, were panting with the com- 
bined heat of the weather and the great conflagration. Under 
such circumstances, the reader may understand that it was far 
from un]ileasant to discover a cool spring beneath the bank ; 
to take water and ice and lemons and Jamaica ginger, and 
make a drink for the gods ! 

Of this pandemonium of strange sights and sounds and 
smells — of comic or tragic, amusing or disgusting details — I 
shall mention but one other object ; one, however, which 
excited in me, I remember, at the time a very curious interest. 
This was a tent filled with coflins, and a dead body ready 
embalmed for transportation to the North. In front of the 
tent stood an oblong pine box, and in this box was a coffin, so 
richly ornamented that it attracted the attention of all who 
approached. It was apparently of rosewood, with massive sil- 
ver handles, curiously carved or moulded, and the interior was 
lined with rich white satin, with a fringed pillow, covered with 
the same material to sustain the head of the corpse. Above 
the tents occupied by this mortuary artist, was a long strip of 



472 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

canvas stretched between two upright poles, and this bore the 
inscription in large black letters : 

"Embalming the Dead! 

New American Process. 

By Order of the Secretary of War." 

Tliis strange locality, as I and my comrades approached it, 
" gave us pause." All these paraphernalia of this grave 
struck us with profound astonishment, and the force of novelty. 
Our poor Confederate dead we buried in pine boxes, or in none ; 
often a long trench received them, wrapped only in their 
old tattered uniforms or threadbare blankets ; and lo ! here 
was quite another mode of preparing men for their last rest ; 
quite a superiour conveyance for them, in which they might 
make their journey to the other world ! That rich and glossy 
rosewood ; that soft-fringed pillow ; those silver handles, and 
the opening in the lid, where through fine plate-glass the face 
of the corpse might be seen ! — strange flattery of the dead — ■ 
the dead who was no longer to crumble to dust, and go the way 
of humanity, but was to be embalmed by the new American 
process, in accordance with the " order " of the Secretary of 
War ! In the streets of a city that spectacle would, no doubt, 
have appeared quite commonplace and unsuggestive ; but here, 
amid the insuff'erable heat, the strangling smoke, and the horri- 
ble stench, that dead body, the coffin, and the embalmers' 
whole surroundings, had in them I know not what of the re- 
pulsive and disgusting. Here the hideous scene had reached 
its climax — Death reigned by the side of Destruction. 

Such was the scene at the White House on that June day 
of 1862 ; in this black cloud went down the star of the enemy's 
greatest soldier, McClellan. A great triumph for the Confed- 
erates followed that furious clash of arms on the Chickahominy ; 
but alas ! when the smoke rolled away, the whole extent of the 
waste and desolation which had come upon the land was re- 
vealed ; where peace, and joy, and plenty had once been, all 
was now ruin. The enemy were lighted on their way, as they 



ROSLYN AND THE WHITE HOUSE. 473 

retreated through the marshes of Charles City, by the burning 
liouses to which they had applied the torch. 

Of two of these houses I have spoken, because they chanced 
to attract my attention ; and I have tried to convey the emo- 
tions which the spectacle excited. It was useless and barbarous 
to burn these private dwelling-houses ; the wanton indulgence 
of spite and hatred on the part of a defeated enemy, who de- 
stroys in order to destroy . But let that pass. 

Since that time I have never revisited Roslyn or the White 
House. 



xni. 
ON THE WING. 



The days of " Camp No-Camp" are numbered. The caunon 
begin to move — the bugle calls — the hours of idleness and 
" outlines " are a thing of the past. 

Whither will the winds of war now waft us ? That is a hard 
question to reply to ; for a marked peculiarity of the Southern 
military theory is mystery. General Monck, of the time of 
Charles 11., was so reticent, I have heard, that when any one 
said, " Good-morning, General," he reflected for twelve hours, 
and then replied, " Good-evening ; " which caused every one 
to wonder at the accuracy of the response. Tliat is an excel- 
h.-nt example to be foll)wed by officei-s ; and thus — being 
ignorant — I caret'ally conceal the rouce we arc about to take. 

But we go, that is certain ; and it is not witliout a feeling 
of regret that I leave this old familiar spot, where so many 
pleasant hours have passed away with song and laughter. As 
r gaze around, I fall into a reverie, and murmur. 

Strange that I ever thought the spot dull and commonplace. 
It is really charming ; and memory I know will make it still 
more attractive. There is that music in the pines again — the 
band of the brigade, camped yonder in the green thicket. I 
heard that band more than one thousand times, I suppose ; 
strange that I thought it annoying, when it is evidently a band 
of unusual excellence. It plays all day long, and the regi- 
ments are eternally cheering. Do you hear that echoing shout? 
You would think they were about to charge the enemy ; but 
it is only an old hare that lias jumped up, and the whole bri- 



ON THE WING. 475 

gade is hot upon the trail, with uproar and excitement. If 
there is no old hare, it is a stray horse — a tall woman riding 
behind a short man — a big negro mounted on a small mule — 
anything whatever. The troops must cheer and make a noise ; 
and the band must pla3^ 

Exquisite music ! How could I ever think it a little exces- 
sive in quantity, and deficient in quality ? " We are going ! 
we are going ! ! we are going ! ! ! " I imagine it says — the 
refrain of music, surging to me from the pine woods. And as 
the brave musicians are about to leave me, they appear to 
excel all their brethren. " That strain again ! " and I hear the 
brigade cheering. They are Georgians — children of the sun, 
" with whom revenge is virtue." Brave fellows, they have got 
the order to move, and hail it with delight ; for all the wood is 
burned, and they are going to fresher fields and forests, and a 
fight, perhaps. 

Farewell, familiar band in the pines ! I luive spent some 
happy moments listening to 3^our loud, triumphant strains ; 
some moments filled with sadness, too, as I thought of all those 
good companions gone into the dust — for music penetrates the 
heart, and stirs the fount of memory ; does it not, good reader? 
As I listened to that band, I often saw the old familiar faces; 
and the never-to-be-forgotten forms of loved friends came back. 
They looked at me with their kindly eyes ; they " struck a 
sudden hand in mine," and once again I heard their voices 
echoing in the present, as they echoed in the happy days 
before ! 

So, sweet memorial music, floating with a wild, triumphant 
ardour in the wind, farewell ! 

Farewell, brave comrades cheering from the pines ! 

All health and happiness attend you 1 

In addition to the brass band above referred to, my days 
have been alive here with the ringing strains of the bugle. 
The tattoo, reveille, and stable-call have echoed through the 
pine woods, making cheerful music in the short, dull days, and 
the winter nights. It is singular how fiir you can hear a bugle- 
note. That one is victor over space, and sends its martial peal 



470 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

through the forest for miles around. There is something in 
this species of music unlike nil others. It sounds the call to 
combat alwaj's to my ears ; and speaks of charging squadrons, 
and the clash of sabres, mingled with the sharp ring of the 
carbine. But what I hear now is only the stable-call. They 
have set it to music ; and I once heard the daughter of a cavalry 
officer play it on the piano — a gay little waltz, and merry 
enough to set the feet of maidens and young men in motion. 
As there are no maidens in these fields of war — at least none 
in camp — we cannot dance to it. 

The bugle takes its place among the old familiar sounds, 
which have not been sufficiently attended to and appreciated. 
All these winter days, it has been but a call to rise or go to 
rest : now it is eloquent with poetry and battle ! So, blow old 
bugle ! Sound the tattoo, and the reveille, and stable-call, to 
your heart's content ! No " purple glens " are here to ring 
through, or to " set replying " — but the echoes in the pines are 
" dying, dying, dying," with a martial melody and sweetness, 
and a splendid ardour, which are better than the weird sound of 
the " horns of elf-land faintly blowing ! " 

There is our banjo too — could I think of neglecting that 
great instrument in my list of " sights and sounds ? " It plays 
"0 Johnny Booker, help this Nigger," " Wake up in the Morn- 
ing," "The Old Gray Hoss," " Come Back, Stephen," "Hard 
Times and Worse a-comin," " Sweet Evelina," and a number of 
other songs. It is a good banjo. I hear it at present playing 
" Dixie " with a fervour worthy of that great national anthem. 
It is a " Yankee " instrument, captured and presented to the 
minstrel who now wields it, by admiring friends ! But — proh 
pudor ! — it plays Southern ditties only, and refuses obstinately 
to celebrate the glories of the " Happy Land of Lincoln." I have 
heard the songs of our minstrel which he plays on his banjo, 
something like a thousand times — but they always make me 
laugh. They ring so gaily in the airs of evening that all sombre 
thoughts are banished — and, if sometimes I am tempted to ex- 
claim, " There is that old banjo rattling again ! " I always relent, 
and repent me of my disrespect toward the good old friend; 



ON THE WING. 477 

and go and listen and laugh at the woes of Booker, or the col- 
loquy with Stephen — above all, at the " Old Gray IIoss," noblest 
of melodies, and now adopted as the national air of all the 
dwellers in Camp No-Camp ! 

Good-by, jolly oM Yankee banjo ! Rattle on gaily, and play 
all the old tunes ! It is singular how new and delightful they 
are — what a world of mirth they contain. 

All around the woods are deserted and lonely. I say "the 
woods," but there are scarcely any left; they have fallen before 
the ringing axes of the troops. 

Your soldier is a foe to wood-lands. Did you ever see a 
division, after a long and dreary march through rain, and mud, 
and mire, halt at evening and advance to attack a forest? They 
carry it at the point of the bayonet, and cheer as they " close in." 
A moment ago, and the weary column lagged, and dragged its 
slow length along like a wounded snake — painfully toiling on 
without talk or laughter. Now a party of children seem to have 
scattered through the woods. Songs, shouts, and jests resound ; 
the axes are ringing against a hundred trunks, huge monarchs 
of the forest crash down, roaring in their fall, and fires spring up 
everywhere like magic. 

The bivouac-fire is the soldier's delight. It warms his limbs 
and cheers his spirit, dries his wet clothes, cooks his rations, and 
dispels all his gloomy thoughts. 

The gay groups pass the jest and sing their songs, and tell their 
stories. Then they sleep ; and sleep is so pleasant after a long 
tramp — the luxury of the gods ! 
•^ War teaches many valuable lessons never learned in peace. -^ 

Sybarite, tossing on your couch of down and grumbling at 
the rose leaf which destroys your slumber ! good Lucullus, 
searching for an appetite, though all the dainties of the earth are 
on your table — shoulder a musket and tramp all day without rest 
or food, and you will learn this truth — that the greatest of 
luxuries are bread and water and sleep ! 

1 have said that the woods around camp are deserted and 
lonely. Not long since they were filled with troops. But the 
troops are gone. 



478 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

Before the onslaught of the regiments and brigades the foresi 
disappeared — vanished and floated off in smoke. For miles 
you can see through long vistas once impenetrably closed. 
Many tr.aces remain of the army which has moved. Riding 
out the other day I came suddenly, in a hollow of the hills, on 
a deserted camp. The soldiers had built the most excellent 
log cabins, with enormous chimneys, and stout roofs held down 
by cross-poles well secured; but just as they were finished, 
they were forced to leave them. One curious structure I re- 
member observing especially. It was a large log chimney on 
the side of the declivity, with "flankers" of timber. In the 
hillside the original genius who had planned this retreat had 
dug a sort of cave, piled dirt on the timber roof, and made his 
retreat bomb-proof! He evidently designed retiring from the 
world to this comfortable retreat, extending his feet toward his 
blazing fire, and sleeping or reflecting without thought of the 
enemy's artillery. 

One and all, these " winter quarters " were deserted, and I 
thought as I looked at them of those excellent houses which 
our forces left near Centre ville and Manassas in March, 
1862. 

Dreary, bare, lonely, melancholy — such is the landscape 
around me. 

That bugle ! It sounds " to horse ! " 

Camp No-Camp goes, and becomes a thing of the Past ! 

The band, the bugle, the banjo, sound no more — at least in this 
portion of the world. I leave with a sigh that excellent stable 
for my horse : I cast a last lingering look upon the good log 
chimney which I have mused by so often, pondering idly on the 
future or the past. 

Farewell chimney, that does not smoke ; and stable, which 
a new log floor has just perfected ! Farewell pine-trees and 
mud, and dreams and reveries, and recollections — at least 
here ! 

Strike the tent, O African of the scriptural name I Put my 
traps in the wagon — strap my blanket behind the saddle — give 
me my sabre and pistol, and hold my stirrup ! 



ON THE WING. 4:79 

You will oblige me particularly if you will tell me where I 
am going, friend. 

There is the bugle, and the colours are unrolled. 
" Forward I " 
And so we depart. 



PAET IV. 

SCOUT LIFE. 



I. 

THE SCOUTS. 



On the borders of Scotland, in the good old times, there was a 
" Debatable land " — bone of contention between Pict and 
Anglo-Saxon. In Virginia, lately, there was a similar region, 
the subject of dispute between Federal and Southron. In 
Scotland, the men-at-arms and barons fought along the banks 
of the Tweed ; in Yirginia, " Mosby's men " and their blue 
opponents contended on the banks of the Rappahannock. 
Our "Debatable land" was, in fact, all that fine and beauti- 
ful country lying between the Potomac and the last-named 
river, over which the opposing armies of the JN^orth and the 
South alternately advanced and retired. 

This land was the home of the scout ; the chosen field of the 
ranger and the partisan. Mosby was king there : and his liege- 
men lived as jovial lives as did the followers of Robin Hood in 
Sherwood Forest, in the old days of Merry England. 

But the romantic lives of Mosby and his men will not be 
touched on here. The subject would become enthralling were 
it to be more than alluded to — the pen would drag the hand 
into a sketch, and not a short one, of that splendid ranger-life 
amid the Fauquier forests, the heart of " Mosby's Confederacy." 
Not to-day can I delineate the lithe, keen partisan, with his 
roving glance, his thin curling lip, his loose swaying belt con- 
taining the brace of pistols ready loaded and capped. Some 
abler hand must draw the chief of rangers, and relate his ex- 
ploits — the design of the present writer is to record some ad- 



484 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

Tentures of " scout life," which differs in many points from that 
of tlie regular partisan, though not wholly. 

The scout proper is " commanding in the field," with no one 
near to give him orders. He goes and comes at will, having 
that about him which all pickets obey. He is " on detached 
service ;" and having procured certain information, reports to 
the officer who has sent him, without intermediate ceremony. 
Operating within the enemy's lines at all times, he depends for 
success and safety on the quickness of his eye and hand — and 
his reliance on these is great. He is silent in his movements, 
low-toned in his speech, abstemious in his habits, and as un- 
tiring on the track of the enemy as the Cuban blood-hound on 
the trail of the fugitive. He sleeps rarely in houses, preferring 
the woods ; and always slumbers " with one eye open," on the 
look out for his enemy. 

The scout has a thorough knowledge of the country, and is 
even acquainted with " every hog path." He travels in the 
woods; and often in crossing a sandy highway dismounts, and 
backs his horse across the road, to mislead the enemy, on the 
watch for "guerillas," as to the direction of his march. He 
thus "flanks" their pickets, penetrates to their camps, recon- 
noitres their number and position, and strives to pick up some 
straggler whom he can pump for information. Thus lurking 
and prowling around the enemy's camps, by night and day, 
the scout never relaxes his exertions until he discovers what 
he wishes. That discovery once made — of the strength, situ- 
ation, and probable designs of the enemy — the stealthy emis- 
sary " snakes " back as he came ; mounts his trusty steed in 
the depth of the wood ; and first listening attentively, sets out 
on his return with his supply of valuable information. 

If he cannot " flank " the enemy's pickets, he charges them. 
If he cannot glide through, he fights through. If he meets a 
straggling enemy or enemies not in too great number, he puts 
his pistol to his or their heads, and brings him or them along — 
pleasantly chatting with them as he goes along, but keeping 
his eye and his pistol muzzle upon them. 

When he relates his adventures, he does so with a laugh — 



THE SCOUTS. 485 

noting the humorous side of things. Indeed his life seems 
chiefly attractive to him from that very humorous phase, and 
he jests about his perils with a gay light spirit which is one of 
the greatest charms of his society. He has extricated himself 
from deadly peril safely, " fooled" his foe, and is chatting after 
the occurrence with his friends by the camp fire. Could any- 
thing be more satisfactory ? So the scout plays over the com- 
edy for your entertainment; relates every incident in a spirit 
of dry humour; rolls up in his blanket by the fire when he is 
tired ; and, before daylight, has disappeared on another expe- 
dition. 

Thus toiling, watching, and fighting, enduring hardship, risk- 
ing liberty and life hourly, the scout passes his life. He is not 
a paid spy — not a spy at all, for he goes uniformed and armed, 
and the work is his reward. The trump of fame will never 
sound for him. If he falls, it will be in the depths of some 
forest, where his bones will moulder away undiscovered ; if he 
survives, he will return to obscurity as a rain-drop sinks into 
the ocean and is seen no more. 

That will be his fate ; but while he is alive, he lives. He 
loves his vocation, and gives to the cause what he possesses — a 
piercing eye, a ready hand, and a daring soul. For his ser- 
vices, often invaluable, and his risk of life night and day, he re- 
ceives — when he can get it — eleven dollars a month ; and with 
this, or with nothing, he is perfectly content. What he asks is 
simply the liberty to rove ; to hunt the enemy after the fashion 
most agreeable to him ; to have himself killed, if tlie killing 
must take place, in single combat, with the pistol, rather than 
in line of battle with the musket. 

It results from this that the life of the scout is apt to be 
crowded with adventure, contrast, and all that is picturesque. 
Here to-day, away to-morrow ; closeted with the conmianding 
general, while an orderly keeps off all intruders, and then dis- 
appearing like a shadow on some secret mission ; passing the 
most obdurate pickets with a single word ; silently appearing 
in the houses of friends far behind the enemy's lines ; reconnoi- 
tring their camps, picking up stragglers, attacking them alone 



486 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

or in company with others, upon all occasions — such are some 
of the phases which the scout exhibits, such some of the occu- 
pations of his stirring existence. 

A few of these adventurous incidents are here recorded just 
as I heard them from an accomplished scout of General Stuart. 
They will be found sufficiently " romantic," but I believe them 
to be exactly true. 

As such, they possess a value which no mere fiction could. 



11. 

HUNTED DOWN. 



Among the niimerons scouts employed by General Stuart, 
none was braver or more intelligent than a young man named 
Frank S . Innumerable were his adventures, almost in- 
credible his hair-breadth escapes and his reckless, dare-devil 
exploits. The annals of fiction contain nothing more curious 
and moving than some of his experiences ; and in this and the 
succeeding sketch I propose to indicate the species of daily life 

which S lived during the late war. 

A few words, first, of the scout himself. He certainly was a 
ranger born. Passionately devoted to his dangerous calling, 
and following it from predilection, not from any hope of reward, 
or spurred on by ambition of distinction, he was never so hap- 
py as when beating up the quarters of the enemy, and throwing 
them into confusion by some sudden attack. He was not an 
officer, and never moved a finger to secure a commission ; all 
he asked was permission to mount his horse, wander off and 
seek the neighbourhood of the enemy's camps, in search of inci- 
dent and adventure. On such occasions he preferred to be 
alone, to follow his appointed work without assistance, depend- 
ing only upon his own strong arm and trnsty weapons. He 
cared little for society, though no one seemed more amiable ; I 
never saw a brighter or more friendly smile than his. That 
smile did not deceive ; there was no deceit of any sort in 



488 WEAKING OF THE GRAY. 

S . He loved his friends, but he loved his calling better 

still. It might have been said of him tliat man delighted him 
not, nor woman either. His " chief delight " was to penetrate 
the dense woods of Fauquier, assail the enemy wherever he 
found an opening, and inflict upon them all the injury in his 
power. In the eyes of the scout those enemies were wolves, 
and he hunted them. This sketch will demonstrate the fact 
that now and then they returned the compliment. 

In person S was suited to his calling ; stout but active ; 

a good hand with pistol and sabre; quick of eye ; and with 
nerves which no peril could shake. Soldiers generally prefer 

broad daylight and an open country to operate in ; S 

liked a forest where no moon shone ; whose soft earth gave 
back no sound when the hoofs of his horse fell upon it ; and 
where even in the gloomy silence of midnight he could approach 
a vidette undiscovered. When he found it necessary to pene- 
trate the hostile lines, and could not elude the watchful guar- 
dians of the night, his habit was to brace himself in his stirrups, 
draw his pistol, and to the quick, " Halt ! who goes there ? " 
shout, " Form fours ! draw sabres ! charge ! " to an imaginary 
squadron behind him, and pass on with loud yells, firing his 
pistol as he advanced. The result was, generally, that the picket 
fired wildly at him, and then fled before the tremendous on- 
slaught of " rebel cavalry," whereupon the adventurous scout 
passed through at a thundering gallop, drove the ]3icket before 
him, and adroitly slipping, at the opportune moment, into some 
by-path of the woods, was " within the lines." When the ene- 
my made a stand at the next rising ground to receive the ex- 
pected charge, none came. When they returned to look for 
S , he had disappeared. 

But to come to the incident I design narrating. 

It was in November, 1863, when the Federal army lay around 

Culpeper Court-House and Mitchell's Station, that S was 

sent on a scout to ascertain the number, position, and move- 
ments of the Federal forces. Taking with him two compan- 
ions, he crossed the upper Rapidan, passed the Confederate cav- 
alry pickets, and carefully worked his way toward Mitchell's 



HUNTED DOWN. 489 

Station. General Meade had pushed forward his lines to this 
point a few days before — or rather established large camps 
there — and this fact, visible from Clark's mountain, made it 

desirable to ascertain, if possible, his designs. This was S 's 

mission. 

In due time the small party reached the vicinity of the sta- 
tion, and it now became necessary to prosecute the remainder 
of the journey on foot. They •accordingly dismounted, and 
leaving their horses in a thick copse, " snaked " in the direc- 
tion of a large Federal camp near at hand, taking advantage 
of every cover. In this manner they came close upon the 
camp, and were rewarded with a sight of acres of canvas. 
Lazy-looking infantry were strolling about, quarter-guards 
walking their posts, and officers in gay uniforms went to and 
fro, saluted by the sentinels with a " present " as they passed. 
The size of the encampments enabled S to form a toler- 
ably accurate estimate of the auKnint of force which General 
Meade had concentrated at this point; and having passed the 
whole day thus moving cautiously around the spot, thereby 
discovering all which a mere reconnoissance could reveal, the 
scout began to look for stragglers, from whom, as his prisoners, 
lie might derive more accurate information still. The love of 
rambling is inherent in soldiers of every nation ; and the pros- 
pect of butter and eggs, resulting from a foraging expedition 
to the neighbouring farms, was well known to be irresistible with 
the Federal troops. To pick up these wandering foragers, if 

they were not in too great numbers, was the object of S . 

His method on such occasions was to come upon the individual 
or the party unawares, silently present the muzzle of his pistol, 
and " take them in charge." Once his prisoners, all was friendly 
and peaceful, and all the information possible was extracted. 

After a fatiguing day, S and his party lay down in the 

woods near the Federal camp, to snatch an hour's sleep before 
proceeding to their nocturnal work. But on this occasion, 
Fate had determined to play them a soriy trick. The " strag- 
glers" whom they designed hunting and entrapping during 
the hours of darkness were to " turn up " in a fashion and at a 



490 WEAKING OF THE GRAY. 

moment neither expected nor desired. The wofnl adven- 
tures which befell the scout and his companions I now proceed 
to relate. 

S had selected for his bivouac a retired spot where the 

encircling woods gave excellent promise of concealment, and 
the covert was so dense as to set him completely at his ease. 
Through the thick brushwood no glimmer of firelight could be 
seen ; and the scouts ventured to kindle a fire, which the chill 
November night rendered far from unacceptable. By the 
carefully shaded blaze they warmed their benumbed fingers, 
ate their supplies of hard bread and bacon, and spread their 

blankets for a brief sleep. S took otf his shoes ; laid his 

hat at his head ] and having picked up somewhere a certain 
" Life of Stonewall Jackson," recently published in Richmond, 
now drew it from his haversack, and read a few passages by 
the firelight. Altliough he did not inform me of the fact, this 
volume must have produced a soothing effect upon his feel- 
ings, for in a short time his eyelids drooped, the volume fell 
from his hands, and he sank to slumber. His companions were 
already snoring by his side. 

They slept longer than they designed doing — in fact 
throughout the entire night. The weather, which had been 
lowering at nightfall, became graduall}^ more threatening ; and 
soon an imperceptible drizzle began, just suflicient to wet the 
blankets of the sleepers, but not to chill and awake them. 
They slept on serenely ; and now as day drew near, the hostile 
Tate approached. It came in the shape of a squad of infantry 
soldiers, armed with muskets, from the adjoining camp ; and 
this party, on their way to forage for butter, eggs, poultry, 
and other desirable components of a military breakfast, had 
stumbled on the slumbering scouts. 

The first intimation which S had of the danger which 

menaced him was, he declared, an instinctive feeling that 
some dangerous foe was near ; and this even before he woke. 
He was not long, however, to remain in doubt, or be compelled 
to question his instincts. He opened his eyes to find the 
blanket suddenly drawn away from his face, and to hear a 



HUNTED 'DOWJSr. 491 

harsh and sarcastic voice exclaim : " How are you, Johnny 
Reb ? Come, get up, and we will give you more comfortable 
accommodations than out here in the rain ! " 

S was wide-awake in an instant, and through his half- 
closed lids reconnoitred, counting his opponents. They were 
six in number, all armed and ready. The situation looked 
ugly. With his comj^auions wide-awake and on the alert 
there might have been some ground for hope ; but they were 
slumbering like the Seven Sleepers, and in utter unconscious- 
ness of danger. As to S himself, he was in their very 

grasp, and practically disarmed ; for it was obvious that at the 
first movement which he made to draw his pistol from the 
holster around his waist, the six muskets, cocked and pointing 
at his breast, would be discharged as one piece, and his body 
riddled with bullets. 

The situation was depressing. S and his companions 

were in a veritable trap. The least movement which he made 
would at once put an end to him, if six balls through the body 
could do so ; and it was obviously necessary to surrender at 
once or betake himself to strategy. The first was out of the 

question, for S had made up his mind never to surrender, 

had indeed sworn a solemn oath not to do so under any cir- 
cumstances ;* the second alternative remained. A ruse had 
already suggested itself to his quick and daring mind ; and 
this he now proceeded instantly to carry out. To the sneering 
address of his opponent bidding him get up, he made no im- 
mediate reply, but again closed his eyes, pulled the blanket up 
again over his shoulders, and turning his back, muttered in a 
sleepy voice : " Oh ! go away, and let me sleep, will you ! " 

This reply highly tickled his adversaries ; and so much did 
they relish the evident impression of the " Johnny Reb " that 
he was among his own comrades in the Confederate camp, that 

they shook all over in the excess of their mirth. S was a 

dangerous man, however, to jest with ; and no doubt believed 
in the proverb which declares that " they laugh best who laugh 
last." While his opponents were thus indulging their merri- 
ment, and highly enjoying the surprise and mortification he 



492 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

would feel when awake to the real nature of his situation, 

S w^as busy executing the plan wliich he had determined 

upon. Pulling his blanket still further over his head, he drew 
a long laboured breath, turned as men do languidly in slum- 
ber, and cautiously moved his hand beneath the blanket to- 
ward tlie pistol in his belt. The hand slowly stole downwards 
under the cover, approached the weapon, and then he had 
grasped the handle. A second careless movement extracted 
the pistol from the holster ; his finger was on the hammer — 
without noise the weapon was cocked. 

The scout was just in time. The squad had finished their 
laugh, enjoyed their little comedy sutficiently, and now design- 
ed bringing the afi'air to an end. The leader accordingly stooped 
down and dragged away the blanket — when a shot followed, 
with the muzzle of the pistol upon his breast, and he fell for- 
ward dead, covering S with his blood. The scene which 

followed was brief. The rest of the squad levelled their mus- 
kets at the scout, and fired with the muzzles nearly touching 
him, but he was wounded by none. The body of their com- 
panion lying across him received the larger portion of the balls ; 

and S rose to his feet, armed with his deadly revolver, 

which still contained four charges. These he fired in succes- 
sion rapidly, but with good aim, and two of the five remain- 
ing men were wounded. The three others, finding their guns 
discharged, dropped them, and liastily ran toward the Federal 
camp. 

S 's companions had been aroused by the firing, but 

were of no assistance to him. One disgracefully fied into the 
woods without firing a shot, and the other had committed the 
fatal fault of allowing his arms to become wetted by the rain. 
When he attempted to fire his pistol the cap snapped, and none 
of the barrels could be discharged. 

This proved, however, of no great importance. S had 

repulsed the whole party for the moment, and' did not need 
assistance. What remained for them now was a rapid retreat 
from the dangerous locality. The sudden firing, and the men 
running in, had alarmed the Federal camp, and a large party 



HUNTED DOWN. 493 

were seen approaching rapidly to take vengeance for the blood 

of their comrades. S accordingly hastened to retire, and 

disappeared with his companion just as the enemy rushed upon 
the area near the bivouac fire. In this sudden " change of 
base," stores of some value to him were necessarily abandoned. 
In fact he was compelled to leave his horse, hat, shoes, blan- 
ket, and " Life of Jackson" — to Ay bareheaded and in his 
stocking feet. Even thus lightened of all superfluous weight, 
it was doubtful if he could escape ; for the shouts which now 
resounded as he ran showed that the enemy were pursuing him 
hotly, with the evident determination of running him " to earth " 
and destroying him. 

In a few moments it became plain to S that he was to 

be " hunted down." In fact, the encounter at the bivouac — • 
resulting so disastrously to the assailants — had profoundly en- 
raged their friends, and a large detachment s^peedily scattered, 
blocking up every avenue by which the scout could escape. 
In the distance cavalry could be seen preparing to cut him off 

from the mountain, and before S had gone half a mile he 

awoke to the unpleasant consciousness that he was surrounded. 
Stealing along, a solitary figure — for his companion had gone 
another way — he peered warily from his covert, seeking a loop- 
hole of escape ; but wherever he turned the paths were pick- 
eted, and the chances of escape seemed hopeless indeed. 

Under circumstances so discouraging, an ordinary man would 

have lost " heart of hope." But S was not an ordinary 

man. His perilous situation only developed the strong man- 
hood of his character. 

He surveyed his position at a glance, and estimated the 
chances. It seemed that nothing but his own quick eye and 
knowledge of woodcraft could save him ; if he was caught, 
there appeared to be small likelihood of his escaping death. 
He had penetrated the Federal lines, reconnoitred their en- 
campments, slain their foraging parties ; and althongh this was 
done in full Confederate uniform, with arms at his side, as a 

legitimate partisan operation, S had little doubts of the 

light in which his enemies would insist upon regarding him. 



494 WEARING OF THE GRAY, 

He felt that he would probably be treated as a " guerilla," if 
not as a spy, and shot without benefit of clergy. For this rea- 
son he did not intend to surrender. He proposed to escape 
if he could ; if he could not, he would sell his life as dearly as 
possible. 

One conviction is apt to result very powerfully from scout 
life — that few situations are so really hopeless that skill and 
nerve will not extricate their possessor. S had these quali- 
ties in great perfection, and now brought all his courage and 
finesse to bear upon the contest for life and death. His ene- 
mies were on every side following the trail of their game, and 
with videttes posted at every point around, were beating the 
covert for the prey. 

S had, however, been hunted before, and his brave 

heart did not recoil from the struggle. Running silently with 
bare head and shoeless feet through the woods, he paused from 
time to time to listen to the shouts of his pursuers, and it soon 
became obvious that they were rapidly approaching upon 
every side. However fleet of foot he might be, and whatever 
might be his accomplishments in woodcraft, the probabilities 
of escape grew more and more doubtful. As he doubled, and 
turned, and circled, like a hunted wolf, the enemy every in- 
stant drew nearer, and soon their detached parties were nearly 
upon him. It was evident that they knew the country perfect- 
ly ; and such was their success in intercepting his retreat, that 
he very soon found himself completely hemmed in, and his ene- 
mies in every direction cutting off his escape. The parties 
gradually closed in upon him on every side, and in a few min- 
utes more, unless he could discover some place of concealment, 
he must inevitably fall into their hands, when a bullet or a cord 
would terminate the hunt and his career on earth at the same 
time. 

This conviction induced S , whose nerve had never fal- 
tered, to seek on every side for some hiding-place. But the 
result was discouraging. The woods were open — without un- 
dergrowth — and every moment was now precious. S 

redoubled his speed, and darting through the wood, suddenly 



HUNTED DOWN. 495 

found himself in a small open field, in the middle of which 
rose a clump of pines, one of which had recently fallen. In 
the bnshy top of this fallen tree he now concealed himself, 
panting from his long run, and listening to the sound of his 
approaching foes closing in on every side. To fight and die 
seemed his only resource ; and reloading his pistol, he grimly 
waited for the moment which should find him at bay, in the 
presence of his enemies. 

He did not wait long. A few minutes only had elapsed 
when a party of three or four Federals entered the little area, 
and approached the clump of pines. They passed close to the 
scout, looking everywhere for traces of him ; but he crouched 
down, held his breath, and they seemed about to prosecute their 
search in some other direction. S was indeed congratulat- 
ing himself upon his safety, when, raising his head, he caught 
the eye of one of the enemy, who had lingered behind the rest, 
fixed steadily upon him. He was discovered ; and starting to 
his feet, was greeted with the shout, " Here he is ! " which was 
instantly echoed by a hundred voices. 

S now saw that his life hung upon a thread. Unless he 

could force his way through the cordon hemming him in, he 
was lost. He was unwilling to waste the loads in his pistols 
before the final struggle took place — the last desperate strug- 
gle which was to terminate all. But that conflict now seemed 
about to take place. 

For a single instant the scout and his foes stood looking at 
each other, and neither made any movement to fire. In pre- 
sence of this desperate man, the enemy seemed averse to the 
encounter, and waited for their comrades to come up. This 
short pause gave the scout an opportunity to decide upon his 
course. If he could only secure a short " start," — if he were 
only mounted ! His feet were bruised and sore, his strength 
greatly diminished by the close, hot chase. Oh ! for a horse to 
charge them and break through, as he felt he could though 
they were forty deep ! As the thought flashed through his 
mind, his eyes fell on a mule which was grazing in the field 
not far from him. To dart to the animal and throw himself 



496 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

upon its back was the work of an instant ; and in the midst of 
furious outcries and hastily fired shots he dug his heels into the 
sides of the frightened animal, and commenced his race for life. 

Behojd S now, mounted on his mule, with bare head 

and shoeless feet, grasping the mane of the animal with one 
hand, holding his pistol in the other, and driving onward like 
some grotesque figure of the German ballads ! Such was the 
speed to which he forced the animal, that he would probably 
have distanced his pursuers had not the perversity of the brute 
defeated all his calculations. The mule had no sooner reco- 
vered from his first fright at finding himself so unceremoni- 
ously mounted, than he made violent attempts by " roaching " 

his back, and kicking up, to unseat his rider. S was an 

excellent horseman, and might have defied the kicking-up por- 
tion of the performance, despite the fact that he was riding 
without saddle or bridle ; but no horsemanship could counteract 
the detestable roaching of the animal's spine. At the fifth or 
sixth kick-up, accompanied by a movement which made the 
mule resemble an angry eat in outline, the scout was landed on 
terra Jirma^ amid the shouts of his enemies, who rushed toward 
him, firing as they came. 

They reached the spot, uttering outcries and curses ; but their 
obstinate foe had once more eluded them. The scout had risen 
quickly, darted into the woods, and the chase again commenced 
with more ardour than at first. 

S now put forth all his remaining strength to distance 

the enemy, following more hotly than ever on his track. Pant- 
ing and worn out almost, half resolving a hundred times to 
turn and fight and die, he still kept on, the shouts of his enemies 
in his very ears. He was growing desperate, and had become 
nearly exhausted. A burning thirst raged in his throat ; and 
although the enemy were on his very heels, he could not resist 
the temptation, as he reached a little meadow through which 
ran a limpid stream, to pause and quench his thirst. Throwing 
himself upon his knees on the margin of the brook, he stooped 
and swallowed one refreshing draught of the cool water, and 
then rising up, found from the shouts of his pursuers that they 



HUNTED DOWN. 497 

were at last upon him — all further hope from flight of no avail. 
A last desperate expedient suggested itself — concealment in the 
undergrowth which skirted the stream ; and throwing himself 
at full length amid the bushes, not far from the spot where he 
had knelt down, he hastily drew the undergrowth around him 
and awaited the struggle. 

He had scarcely disappeared from view when his enemies 
reached the spot. He heard their footsteps ; tlieir cries re- 
sounded ; and suddenly the voice of one of them exclaimed : 

" Here's the scoundrel's knee-print in the sand where he 
drank just now ! He ain't far off! " 

This cry was the signal for all the detached parties to con- 
verge toward the spot ; and very soon the Held was full of 
them. The scout heard them deploying in every direction to 
guard all the outlets, preparatory to a rigid search of every 
species of covert in which a fugitive could conceal himself. 
The green meadow was dotted with clumps of bushes, which 
grew in thicker luxuriance along the little watercourse ; and in 
some of these hiding-places it was obvious to the enemy that 
their victim lay hidden. The prey was at last hunted down ; 
had taken to earth ; and it was now only necessary to beat the 
undergrowth with efficient diligence in order to flusli the 
dangerous game. 

The hunters proceeded to their task with energy and excel- 
lent method. Xo portion of the ground was neglected, and 
their attention was especially directed to the bushes along the 
stream. 

Lying on his back in the dense jungle, with a cocked pistol 
in each hand, his finger on the trigger, the scout listened with 
ears rendered preternaturally acute to the cries and exclama- 
tions of his enemies, who moved up and down the watercourse, 
and on every hand searching every foot of ground for their 

prey, S had not wasted a moment in deciding upon his 

plan of action if discovered He was exhausted, and could no 
longer fly ; and to be taken prisoner was not an alternative. 
He would fight as long as he could stand ; give his enemies 
the full benefit of the ten barrels of his revolvers at close range ; 

32 



498 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

grapple with them breast to breast ; and if he could not fight 
his way out — die. 

Such was his plan ; and he listened to the footsteps around 
him with that firm nerve which the brave man summons to 
his aid when face to face with death. 

The moment had now come which was to decide his ftite. 
The pursuers had searched every portion of the field without 
success, and now returned to the point from which they had 
set forth, subjecting the covert to a second and more rigid in- 
spection. Their feet were heard trampling amid the under- 
growth ; they stopped to put aside the bushes, and peer into 

every nook. S heard their very breathing, and cast an 

eye upon his pistols to see that he had neglected nothing ; that 
every tube was capped, every barrel loaded, and both weapons 
cocked. All was right, and he experienced the fierce joy of 
the man who feels that at least he need not die without drag- 
ging down more than one enemy in his fall. 

The steps were at his side ; oaths and exclamations echoed in 
his very ears. One of the hostile party seemed determined to 
leave no inch of the ground unexplored, and bent down, plung- 
ing his glances into the very bushes over the scout's head. 

S grasped his pistols with a firmer clutch, strung his 

nerves for instant contest, and prepared to rise suddenly to 
his feet, lay the curious individual before him dead with a 
pistol bullet through the heart, and throw himself like a tiger 
at bay into the midst of his enemies. 

The bushes were thrust aside ; an oath resounded within 
three feet of him ; he liad covered the heart of his enemy with 
the muzzle of his right-hand pistol crossed over his breast — 
when the autumn foliage swayed back to its place, an excla- 
mation of disappointment followed, and the footsteps retreated 
from his hiding-place. 

The scout drew a long breath. He was saved. 

All day long he lay hidden, hearing more than one sound 
which proved that his enemies were still hovering near ; but 
they had given up the search in despair. At night he quietly 
rose, and found that the coast was clear. Proceeding cautiously 



HUNTED DOWN. 499 

to reconnoitre, lie discovered that the ground around his hiding- 
place was only partially guarded, and had little difficulty in 
escaping. Eluding such parties as were still prowling around, 
he flanked the Federal pickets, travelled all night, and before 
da^dight was safe within the Southern lines. 

Such was the narrative of S , related to me in my tent 

on the liapidan. To suspect exaggeration or inaccuracy in the 
narrator would be to do a brave and truthful soldier great in- 
justice ; and I have recorded this true incident as a veritable 
illustration of the curious " scout-life " of the war. 



III. 
HOW S^ — OVERHEARD HIS DEATH-WARRANT. 



I. 

In " Hunted Down," I have attempted to give some idea of 
scout life on the Rappahannock during the late war. Another 
narative of the same description maj interest those readers who 
relish wild adventure; and the present incident will be found 
more curious than the former. It befell the same personage, 

S , one of General Stuart's scouts, and I again beg to warn 

the worth V reader ao-ainst reo;ardin2: these relations as fanciful. 
Imagination has nothing to do with this one ; if it possesses 
no other merit, I am sure it does possess that of truth. It was 
told me by the brave man whom it concerns, and I never knew 
him to boast or exaggerate. 

The incident took place during the summer of 1863, in the 
country beyond the Rappahannock, not far from the foot of 
the Blue Ridge. This region — the county of Fauquier — was the 
true Paradise of the scout. On its winding and unfrequented 
roads, and amid its rolling hills and mountain spurs, the scout 
and ranger wandered at will, bidding defiance to all comers. 
The thick woods enabled him to approach unseen until almost 
in contact with the Federal parties or their encampments ; and 
if pursued, he had only to leap the nearest stonewall, rush 
under a crest of a hill, and disappear like a shadow, or one of 
those phantoms of diablerie which vanish in the recesses of 
the earth. For secret operations of every description, no coun- 



HOW S OVERHEARD HIS DEATH-WARRANT. 501 

try in the world is more favourable ; and the present writer has 
journeyed by roads and across fords in the immediate vicinity 
of hostile forces, by which a column of ten thousand men 
might have moved with no more difficulty than a solitary horse- 
man. No prying eyes followed the scout upon his way ; the 
extensive uplands were pasture ground for grazing great herds of 
cattle. The traveller went on, mile after mile, unespied by any 
one, and in presence only of tall forests and azure mountains. 

In Fauquier, S had many friends whom he was fond of 

visiting on his adventurous excursions ; but unfortunately he 
had also a number of enemies in the persons of Federal sol- 
diers. Detached bodies of the enemy had pitched their tents 
in the region, and the Federal cavalry scouted the main roads, 
greatly harassing the inhabitants. To harass their parties in 
return was the work of the ranger ; and scarce a day passed 
without some collision in the extensive fields or the forest glades, 
in which, on one side or both, blood would flow. 

Among the Federal forces, S had achieved a high repu- 
tation as a scout and a partisan ; and had also aroused in his 
enemies a profound hatred. His daring reconnoissances, secret 
scouts, and audacious attacks on foraging parties, had made 
them pass a lively time — and great was the joy of a Federal 
Colonel commanding pickets on the upper Rappahannock 
when he received intelligence one day in this summer of 1863 

that the well known S was alone at a house not far from 

camp, where his capture would be easy. 

S was, in fact, at the house indicated, without the least sus- 
picion that his presence had been discovered. lie had been sent 
upon a scout in that region, and finding himself in the neigh- 
bourhood of the family with whom he had long been on terms 
of intimacy, embraced the occasion to visit them and rest for a 
few hours before proceeding upon his way. On the evening 
when the events about to be related occurred, he was seated in 
the parlour, conversing with one of the young ladies of the 
family, and perfectly at his ease both in body and mind. His 
horse — an excellent one, captured a few days before from the 
enemy — was in the stable, enjoying a plentiful supply of corn ; 



502 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

he had himself just partaken of a most inviting supper, to 
which bright eyes and smiles had communicated an additional 
attraction ; and he was now sitting on the sofa, engaged in 
conversation, not dreaming of the existence of an enemy within 

a thousand miles. Let it not be supposed, however, that S 

was disarmed either of his caution or his weapons. His eye 
wandered unconsciously, from pure habit, every few moments 
toward the door, and around his waist was still buckled the 
well-worn belt containing his pistols. These never left his per- 
son day or night as long as he was in the vicinity of his enemies. 

Such was the comfortable and peaceful "interiour" which 
the mansion presented when the incident I purpdse to relate 
took place. S was tranquilly enjoying himself in the so- 
ciety of his kind hostess, and laughing with the light-hearted 
carelessness of a boy who finds a " spirit of mirth " in every- 
thing, when suddenly his quick ear caught the clatter of hoofs 
upon the road without, and rising, he went to the window to 
reconnoitre. A glance told him that the new-comers were the 
enemy ; and the crack througli which he looked was sufficiently 
large to enable liim to see that they consisted of a detachment 
of Federal cavalry, who now rapidly approached the house. 

With such rapidity did they advance, that before S could 

move they had reached the very door ; and no sooner had they 
done so, than at a brief order from the officer commanding, 
several men detached themselves from the troop, hurried to the 
rear of the house, and in an instant every avenue of escape 
was effectually cut off. 

S was now fairly entrapped. It was obvious that in 

some manner the enemy had gained intelligence of his presence 
at the house, and sent out a detachment for his capture or 
destruction. The scout required no better proof of this than 
the systematic manner in which they went to work to surround 
the house, as though perfectly sure of their game, and the 
business-like method of proceeding generally on the part of 
the men and officers. To meet this sudden and dangerous 

advance of his foes, S saw that he must act with rapidity. 

Skill and decision would alone save him, if anything could ; 



HOW S OVERHEARD HIS DEATH-WARRANT. 503 

and in a few rapid words he explained the state of affairs. He 
informed his entertainers that he was the game for whom they 
were hunting ; he had heard that a price was set npon his 
head ; if there was no means of leaving the house or conceal- 
ing himself, he did not mean to surrender; he would not be 
taken alive, but would fight his way through the whole party 
and make his escape, or die defending liimself. 

Such was the tenor of the brief address made by S 

to his fair entertainers ; but they informed him in quick words 
that he need not despair, they would conceal him ; and then 
the brave hearts set to work. One ran to the window and 
demanded who was without ; another closed the door in rear, 
the front door being already sliut ; and while these movements 

were in progress S was hurried up the staircase by one 

of the young ladies, who was to show him his hiding-place. 
Before he had reached the head of the staircase a novel proof 
was given by the Federal cavalry of the terror which they 
attached to his name. A sudden explosion from without shook 
the windows ; six or eight carbine-balls pierced the front door, 
passed throngh and whistled aronnd the ladies; and a loud 
shout was heard, followed by heavy shoulders thrust against 
the door. It was afterwards discovered that the rattle of the 
door-latch in the wind had occasioned the volley; the noise 

was supposed to be that made by S as he was about to 

rush out npon them ! 

The scout had, meanwhile, been conducted by his fair guide 
to his hiding-place, which was in a garret entirely destitute of 
furniture, with bare walls, and apparently without any imagin- 
able facility for enabling a man to escape the prying eyes of 

the " party of observation." Here, nevertheless, S was 

concealed ; and his hiding-place was excellent, from its very 
simplicity. The garret liad no ceiling, and the joists were 
even unboarded ; but upon them were stretched two or three 
loose planks. The young lady hurriedly pointed to these. 

S understood in an instant ; and, swinging himself up, 

he reached the joist, lay down at full length upon one of the 
planks next to the eaves, and found himself completely pro- 



504 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

tected from observation, unless the search for him was so 
minute as to leave no corner unexplored. 

Having assisted the scout to ensconce himself in his hiding- 
place, the young lady hastened down from the garret, and 
descended the main staircase, just as the Federal soldiers burst 
open the front door and swarmed into the passage. From the 
plank beneath the eaves, as the door of the garret had been 
left open, S informed me he heard every word of the fol- 
lowing colloquy : 

" Where is the guerilla we are after ? " exclaimed the officer 
in command, sternly addressing the lady of the house. 

" What guerilla? " she asked. 

"S ." 



" He was here, but is gone." 

"That is untrue, and I am not to be trifled with ! " was the 

irate reply. " I shall search this house — but first read the 

orders to the men ! " he added, addressing a non-commissioned 

officer of the troop. 

. This command was obeyed by a sergeant, holding an official 

paper in his hand ; and S had the satisfaction of hearing 

read aloud a paper which recited his various exploits, com- 
mented upon his character in terms far from flattering, declared 
him a bushwhacker and guerilla, and ordered him to be put to 
death wherever he was found — the men being expressly for- 
bidden to take him prisoner. This order was from Colonel 

, commanding the neighbouring force, and S heard 

every word of it. He was to be pistoled or sabred. No hope 
of mercy — no surrender taken. Death to him ! 

Peril unnerves the coward, but arouses a fierce pride and 
courage in the breast of the brave, to dare all, and fight to the 
death. S was made of the stuff which does not cower be- 
fore danger, but enables a man to look the King of Terrours in 
the face without the shudder of a nerve. He was armed as 
usual with two pistols carefully loaded and capped — for he 
never neglected his arms — and before he was taken, or rather 
killed, he hoj)ed to lay low more than one of his assailants. 
This was his calculation ; but the scout was still a long way 



HOW S OVERHEARD HIS DEATH-WARRANT. 505 

from regarding his fate as sealed, his death as certain. He had 
an obstinate faculty of hoping, and took the brightest view of 
his critical situation. He might not be discovered ; or if dis- 
covered, he was in a position to fight to an advantage which 
would make the issue of the struggle exceedingly doubtful. 
He intended to spring to the floor, shoot the one or two men 
wlio would probably penetrate to the garret, and hurl them 
down the staircase — and then placing himself at the head of the 
stairs, sheltered from bullets by a projection of the wood- work, 
defy them to ascend. " They never could have got me out of 

there," said S with a laugh, " unless they had burned the 

house, or brought a ])iece of artillery to shell me out. I had 
two pistols, and could have held my ground against the wliole 
of them all day." 

But not to digress from the actual res gestce of the occasion, 

the search for S speedily commenced. First the parlour 

and dining-room were subjected to a rigid examination, and 
finding there no traces of the scout, the men scattered them- 
selves over the house, ransacking every apartment, and com- 
pelling the young ladies to throw open the most private recesses 
of their chambers. They looked under beds, into closets, and 
behind dresses hanging up in the wardrobes, in vain search for 
the game. Sabres were thrust into beds, to pierce and immo- 
late the dangerous wild animal if he were lying ^^r^w between 
the mattresses ; and the points of the weapons did not spare the 
female clothing depending from pegs in the closets. The scout 
might be straightened up against the wall, behind those white 
garments in closet or wardrobe ; but an assiduous search failed 
to discover him, and soon no portion of the whole establishment 
remained unexplored but the garret. To this the party now 
directed their attention. 

" "What room is that up there? " was the curt question of one 
of the men to the young lady who stood near him. 

" A garret," was the reply. 

" He may be up there — show me the way ! " 

" You see the way — I do not wish to go up there ; the dust 
will soil my dress." 



506 WEAEING OF THE GRAY. 

A growl greeted these quiet words, and the trooper turned 
to a black servaut-girl who had been made to go around with 
the party in their search, holding a lighted candle. 

" You go before, and show us the way," said the trooper. 
The girl laughed, declared that nobody was up there ; but on 
hearing the order repeated, ascended the stairs, followed by the 
man. 

S had listened attentively and lost nothing ; tlie archi- 
tecture of the house enabling him to catch the least sound with- 
out difficulty. After the protracted search in the rooms be- 
neath, during which his hiding-place had not been approached, 
he began to hope that the danger was over. This hope, how- 
ever, was found to be illusory, and he prepared for the crisis. 

The steps of the servant-girl were heard ascending, followed 
by the tramp of the trooper, whose heavy sabre rattled against 
the stairs as he moved. Then a long streak of light ran over 
the garret floor ; and cautiously thrusting out his head from his 
hiding-place, S saw the head of the girl and her com- 
panion, as step by step they mounted to the apartment. The 
girl held up her dress with affected horror of the dust ; and when 
she had reached a position from which a full stream of light 
conld be directed into the room, she paused, and with a low 
laugh called her companion's attention to the fact that there 
was nothing whatever in the garret. 

This, however, did not satisfy him, and he insisted upon mak- 
ing a thorough search. The girl was obliged to obey his order, 
and in a moment they were both standing in the room. 



II. 

S measured the man before, or rather beneath him, 

througli a crevice in the plank, and calculated where he conld 
shoot him to the best advantage. This resource seemed all that 
was left. Discovery appeared inevitable. The scout M'as lying 
upon a single plank, directly over the head of his enemy, and 
it was only necessary, apparently, for the latter to possess 



HOW S OVERHEARD HIS DEATH-WARRANT. 507 

ordinary eyesight to discover him. This was the scout's con- 
viction, as he now cautiously moved his finger to the trigger of 
the pistol, which he had drawn and cocked, in expectation of 
the coming struggle. He would certainly be discovered in ten 
seconds, and then for an exhibition of his prowess as a Confede- 
rate soldier and scout, which should either extricate him from 
his peril, or force his very enemies to respect the courage of 
the man they overwhelmed and put to death ! His plan, as I 
have said, was simple. He would throw himself upon this man, 
shoot him through the heart, hurl the body upon the heads of 
those below, and then hold his position against the whole party 
at the pistol's muzzle. It was improbable that the Federal 
troopers could be induced to mount the narrow stairway, at the 
head of which stood at bay a desperate and determined man, 
armed with a revolver in each hand. It would be certain death 
to them ; he must either be burned out or shelled out with 
artillery ! That either of these courses, however, would be 
resorted to, appeared improbable ; they would place a guard 
around the house, and either starve or attemj)t to dislodge hiui 
in some other manner. But then he would gain time ; now if 
time were only gained, the scout had so much confidence in his 
own resources that he believed himself safe. 

To return to the scene actually occurring : the Federal 
trooper gazed around the garret for some hidden nook or 
cranny wherein a rebel could be stowed away. Some empty 
boxes attracted his attention, but an examination of them 
resulted in nothing. Then, all at once, the eyes of the man 
were directed toward the spot w^here the scout was concealed. 

S gave himself up for lost ; his finger was on the 

trigger, and he was about to forestall his enemy by sending a 
ball through his brain, when suddenly he drew a long breath, 
removed his finger from the trigger, and flattened himself 
almost to nonentity on his plank. The girl had adopted an 
excellent 7ni8e^ and as simple as it was excellent. Whilst con- 
versing carelessly with the man, she had moved directly 

'beneath S , in consequence of which movement the candle 

threw the shadow of the plank on which he lay directly upward. 



508 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

Thus the person of the scout, prone on the plank, was wholly- 
hidden from view. In vain did the man move from side to 
side, evidently suspecting something, and order the girl to hold 
the light in such a manner as to illuminate the dusky recess 
beneath the rafters. She readily did so, but so adroitly that at 
every movement the shadow was made still to conceal the 
scout ; and ere long this comedy, in the issue of which the 
life of a man was involved, came to an end. Satisfied that the 
garret contained no one, the man retired, and the clank of his 
sabre on the staircase as he descended gradually receded from 
the hearing of S . He was saved. 

The Federal troopers remained at the house some time longer, 
their officer exhibiting the utmost anger and disappointment at 
the result of the expedition ; but they finally departed, warning 
the lady of the mansion that if she harboured "guerillas" 
thereafter, her house would be burned. Leaving videttes 
behind, the officer then departed with his detachment. 

This was the signal for S to descend, which he did at 

once. A brief reconnoissance through the window revealed 
the dark figures posted at stated intervals around the house — 
but these only made him laugh. He did not fear them, and 
had only one regret — the impossibility of getting his horse oif. 
The attempt would reveal his presence, involve the family in 
danger, and might fail. He accordingly resolved to retire on 

foot. Tliis was at once and successfully accomplished. S 

bade his kind friends farewell, stole out of the back door, glided 
along the garden fence, beneath the shadow of the trees, and 
gained the wood near by without being challenged. 

In an hour he was safe from all pursuit, at a friend's, on one 
of the spurs of the Blue Kidge. Soon afterwards he was relat- 
ing this narrative to the present writer, near Orange. 

I was interested in it, and thought that the reader might 

share this interest. He knows, at least, how S overheard 

his death-warrant. 



IV. 

HOW S CAPTURED A FEDERxiL COLOML'S 

HAT. 



Another adventure of S , -the scout, will be here narrated. 

He related it to me in ray tent near Orange more than a year 
ago; but the incidents come back, as do many things in 
memory — living, breathing, real, as it were, in the sunshine of 
to-day ; not as mere shapes and recollections of the past. 

In the summer of the good year 1863, S went with two 

or three companions on a little scout toward Warrenton. 

Do you know the pretty town of Warrenton, good reader? 
'Tis a delightful little place, full of elegant mansions, charming 
people, and situated in a lovely country. Nowhere are the 
eyes of youthful maidens bluer — au revoir Men-tot, sweet stars 
of my memory ! — nowhere are truer hearts, or more open 
hands. Here Farley, the famous partisan — one of the friends 
I loved — used to scout at will, and when chased by his foes, 
rein up his horse on the suburbs, and humorously fire in their 
faces as they darted in pursuit of him ; laughing quietly with 
that low musical laugh of his, as his good horse (" Yankee 
property " once) bore him away. Here a friend of mine after- 
w\ards — but whither am I wandering ? See the force of habit, 
and the inveterate propensity to rove even on paper ; the result 
of life in the cavalry ! I forget that another branch of the 
service now claims my thoughts — that the blanket wrapped in 
its " Yankee oil-cloth " is rarely strapped behind my saddle as 
in the good old days when, following one illustrious for ever, I 
knew not whither I was going, where I would stop, or what 



510 WEARINa OF THE GRAY. 

greenwood tree would shelter me. Look ! the red battle-flag 
is floating in the wind ; the column moves ; will we sleep in 
Yirginia, Maryland, or Pennsylvania? We knew not, for the 
cavalry are your true rovers of the greenwood ; so I, who once 
was a cavalry-man, rove still, even on paper. 

I perceive I am growing dull. To return to S and his 

little scout near Warrenton in 18G3. I cannot fail to interest 
then, you see, my dear reader; for there is a certain species of 
human interest in the adventures of those who deal in 

"bloody noses, and crack'd crowns, 
And pass them current too," 

which everybody experiences ; and the relation of these san- 
guinary adventures demands very little "style." Yon tell 
your plain story as plainly as possible ; and behold! you secure 
the luxury of luxuries, a satisfied reader. 

S had, as I have said, two or three companions" with him ; 

and having slept in the woods near Warrenton, the party pro- 
ceeded toward Catlett's in search of adventures. There were 
plenty of Federal camps there, and in the neighbourhood ; and 
our scout promised himself much amusement. Behold them 
then, full of the spirit of fun, and intent on celebrating the 
day by an exciting hunt which should result in the running 
down, and killing or capturing of some of the blue people. 

They reached the vicinity of the railroad without adventures, 
and then proceeded carefully to reconnoitre for the camps 
known to be in that vicinity. This search was soon rewarded. 
Beaching the summit of a hill, where some trees concealed 
them, but the view was unobscured, they perceived in the 
valley beneath two extensive camps, one on the right, the 
other on the left ; the Federal soldiers lounging about in care- 
less security. 

Here was S 's game plain before him, and waiting as it 

were to be trapped. Stragglers from Federal camps — adven- 
turous explorers of the surrounding country in search of butter, 
effffs, or fowls — these were the favourite victims of the scout ; 
for from such he often obtained valuable information, excellent 



HOW S CAPTURED A FEDERAL COLONEL's HAT. 511 

horses and equipments, and the finest patterns of revolvers ; 
all " articles in his line." To lie in wait tor stragglers or 

others was thus a very safe game ; but on this occasion S 

had loftier views. He had two or three men with him, tried 
and trusty comrades ; and w^ith an army of this size, he felt 
himself able to operate in the open field ; making up by dash 
and audacity what he lacked in numbers. 

Having thus arrived at the conclusion that he could efi'ect 
something important, the scout waited for his ojiportunity, and 
this opportunity soon came. 

All at once a cortege of cavalry was seen advancing along 
the road in the valley from one camp in the direction of the 
other; apparently the escort of some officer of distinction. 
The party numbered at least twenty, and the ground was un- 
favourable for a surprise ; but S was unable to resist the 

temptation to attack them, and at least throw them and their 
camps into confusion — your true scout and hunter of bluebirds 
never experiencing greater pleasure than when he can alone, 
or with two or three companions, frighten and startle " to 

arms " a whole brigade or regiment of his enemies. S 

accordingly stole down the hill, as much under cover as possible, 
until he reached the side of the road over which the ofiicer 
and his escort were approaching — then in a few words he ex- 
plained his design to the others, and awaited. 

The Federal ofiicer came on in profound security, no doubt 
considering himself as safe as though at home in his own country ; 

when suddenly, with a yell that rang through the hills, S 

and his party darted from their place of concealment, and 
charged full tilt upon the frightened escort, firing on them as 
they charged. 

The escort did not await the shock. Believing themselves 
waylaid by " Rebel cavalry," and doomed to certain destruction 
if they remained, they turned their horses' heads and broke in 
disorder, flying back to the camp from which they came, pur- 
sued by S 's men. 

Their commander, a Colonel, acted with more courage. S 

had shot him through the arm, inflicting a dangerous wound ; 



512 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

but he attempted to draw his pistol and resist, calling all the 

time to his cowardly escort to stand. S immediately 

closed in witli him and attempted to kill him, but in this he 
failed. The Colonel's horse set off at full speed in the direction 
of the camp, toward which his rider had been going, and, 

turning his own horse, S followed, yelling and firing his 

pistol as he went. 

The chase was exciting ; the situation altogether singular. 
The camp of a whole brigade was directly in front, not four 

hundred yards distant, and S was on the heels of the 

Colonel, who was already on the outskirts of the encampment. 
The men ran from their tents in astonishment and dismay at 
the firing, persuaded that a whole regiment of Confederate 
cavalry was charging ; and still the Colonel, like John Gilpin 
of old, ran his race — not for " a thousand pounds," but for a 
more valuable stake, his life. 

S did not relax his gait or cease pursuit. 'Now they 

were in the very camp ; the Colonel still dashes on, and the 
scout still follows on his track, firing as he goes. The ^Colonel 
gesticulates violently, and shouts to the men : 

" Shoot the d d rascal ! shoot him ! There's only one of 

them ] " 

S laughs and bangs away still with his revolver. 

The Colonel is in a frenzy of rage ; his frightened horse 
shies ; the Colonel's hat drops, but the owner cannot stop to 
regain it. 

S throws himself from the saddle, picks up the hat, and 

again mounts, laughing. 

But by this time the game was growing too dangerous. The 
men had recovered from their astonishment and were running 
to their guns. S had no desire to receive a volley of mus- 
ketry ; and, waving the captured hat with one hand, fired his 
last barrel with the other at the Colonel, and then retreated at 
a gallop, followed by a number of musket-balls, at which, how- 
ever, he only laughed. 

He soon rejoined his men, who had pursued the escort into 
the other camp ; and then, as the wliole place was buzzing like 



HOW S CAPTURED A FEDERAL COLONEL'S HAT. 513 

a nest of hornets, they quietly disappeared and were soon lost 
in the extensive woods, where pursuit was impossible. 

What S did with his hat I am unable to say ; but, 

doubtless, the heart of some " high Confederate " was charmed 
by the offering, for mighty is the market price of all that comes 
through the blockade. 

If not thus disposed of, the trophy lies somewhere hidden 

among the opima spolia of S , to be shown some day as a 

memorial of that gay adventure in the sumnier forests of Fau- 
quier. 



V. 

HOW S CARRIED OFF A FEDERAL FIELD- 
OFFICER. 



I HAVE not yet done with S , the scout. Still another 

adventure of his comes back to my memory, and this also 
shall proceed to be narrated. 

The chosen field for the operations of the scout fraternity 
was, as I have said, the county of Fauquier — not only because 
the enemy frequented habitually that region, but from its great 
adaptability to partisan manoeuvres. Behold now, in this 
bloody year 1863, our friend the scout making a little excur- 
sion into the Chinquepin Territory in search of information, 
adventure, spoils — whatever is calculated to charm the heart 
of the free ranger of the woods. Mounted on a good fresh 
liorse, with pistols at side, and a good stout heart to back the 
ready hand, the scout joyfully set forth all alone on his jour- 
ney, trusting to Providence to guide him, and to his own skill 
and courage for the result. 

The country swarmed with the enemy ; and to find out all about 
them, their strength, position, and probable designs, was the 

main object of S in going on his scout. If, however, any 

opportunity of striking a blow presented itself, he intended to 
avail himself of the " opening." As will be seen, such oppor- 
tunity did present itself, and was promptly improved. 

The scout reached, without adventures, the vicinity of War- 
renton, and was riding through a thick body of woods, when 
all at once, on turning a bend in the winding bridle-path, he 
came suddenly upon a Federal Colonel, followed by two order- 



HOW S CARRIED OFF A FEDERAL FIELD-OFFICER. 515 

lies. The undergrowth was so thick, and the earth so soft, that 
he was entirely unaware of the vicinity of his foes, until the 
horses' heads were almost touching. 

For a moment the opponents gazed upon each other motion- 
less and in silence. The Colonel and his escort seemed to have 
a dim impression that the silent man before them was a foe, 

and S soon gave them good reason for becoming confirmed 

in this opinion. His hand darted to his pistol, but for some 
moments he was unable to draw it. The Colonel was busy 
doing the same ; and, meanwhile, something like the following 
dialogue took place between the opponents : 

Colonel, excitedly. — " You are a guerilla ? " 

Scout, sternly. — " Yes, I am." 

Colonel. — " What do you want ? " 

Scout.—" You." 

And with these words S banged awa}'- witli his pistol, 

missing his aim, but causing the two orderlies to beat a sudden 
and complete retreat. The Colonel fired his pistol, and then ' 

turned his horse's head to retreat, but S was too quick for 

him. In an instant he was beside his man, and ordered him 
to drop his pistol and surrender. This command was doggedly 

obeyed ; but S had no sooner achieved his object than he 

saw himself threatened with a new danger. 

Horses' hoofs were heard upon the road behind him ; and 
looking through an opening in the trees, he saw a party of 
Federal cavalry, who had no doubt been attracted by the report 
of his pistol, and were now approaching the spot at a rapid 
gallop, evidently bent on ascertaining the cause of the firing. 

Not a moment was to be lost. S saw his prize about to 

be snatched from him, and was called upon to act with rapidity 
and resolution. Cocking his pistol, which he held in his right 
hand, he ordered his prisoner to refrain from any outcry on 
peril of instant death ; and then seizing the Colonel's bridle in 
his left hand, he put spur to his horse and set oflP at a tremen- 
dous gallop — the prisoner's horse galloping beside his own. 

Thus commenced the race for life. The pursuers had evi- 
dently descried him and comprehended his intention, for they 



516 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

uttered loud shouts, -calling ou hiin to stop or they would 
lire. 

The scout laughed his grim laugh. It was probable that 
such a threat would influence him ! He had long cultivated a 
contempt for bullets issuing from carbines levelled by cavalry ; 
and if the coolest and most experienced marksmen, tiring from 
a rest, had menaced him, the eifect would have been the same 
with him. Even if his soul had not scouted the thought, sur- 
render was out of the question ; and, instead of slackening his 
gait, he put spurs to his horse, flying even faster, and carrying 
along with him the Colonel, whose bridle was still grasped in 
his inexorable hand. 

The pursuers howled with rage and followed like wolves upon 
his track. Every moment they seemed gaining on him, and the 
Colonel's countenance began to indicate a lively anticipation 
of rescue. But to aid his friends seemed hopeless. S-^- — 
had him completely in his power. Whenever he turned his 
eyes toward the scout as they sped on, the grim muzzle of a pis- 
tol met his view ; and the expression of the scout's countenance 
but too plainly proved that he would hesitate at nothing. If 

anything was certain, this was, that S had determined to 

bring him out of the lines a prisoner, or leave him dead ; 
and the Colonel, like an intelligent man, did not venture to 
raise his hand, or make any open eflPorts to assist his friends 
and effect his release. 

The pursuers still thundered on the track of the scout and 
his prisoner ; and the two horsemen continued to fly at head- 
long speed. They passed out of the woods across an open 
space, and into the woods again. All trace of a road, except a 
narrow bridle-path, was now lost, and the trunks of the trees 
grew so close together that it was difiicult for the pursuers to fol- 
low them except in single file. This it was soon obvious they 
were doing, for the shouts were again close upon the track of 
the fugitives ; and the near approach of his friends induced the 
prisoner to undertake a ruse on his own part, to assist them in 
their exertions. 

This he proceeded to do as follows. The wood, as I have 



llOW S CAREIED OFF A FEDERAL FIELD-OFFICER. 517 

said, was very dense, and tlie trees so close together as to make 
it diflScult for S and his companion to pass along the nar- 
row bridle-path abreast between the trunks. On this circum- 
stance the Colonel based his hopes of delaying the flight of 

himself and S , and thus giving time to his friends to come 

up. 

They were passing at this moment through a very narrow 
space ; there was scarce room for more than a single horse ; 
and on the side of the Colonel, that is, the left side, a stout tree- 
trunk made it necessary to incline his horse's head to the right, 
and draw in his knee well to the saddle, to avoid scraping 
against the trunk in passing. It was the Colonel's object now 

to pass to the left of this tree ; and then force S , as he 

passed on the right of it, to loose his hold of the prisoner's bridle, 
who might then suddenly check his horse, wheel round, and so 
escape. 

1^0 sooner Nvas this ruse determined on than it was attempted. 
By violently turning his horse's head to the left, and digging 
his right heel into the animal's flanks, the Federal officer endea- 
voured to interpose the tree between them, and so accomplish 

his purpose ; but S was too quick for him. The scout was 

not one to be outgeneralled by so simple and transparent a 
device. No sooner had the Colonel jerked his bridle to the left, 
than the scout counteracted his plan by still more violently 
jerking it toward himself, and forcing the animal to dart by 
hetween himself and the tree, instead of upon the opposite side. 

The consequence was, that the Colonel's knee crashed against 
the trunk ; his foot was dragged out of the stirrup, and his boot 
nearly torn from his leg, which was painfully bruised and lacer- 
ated. 

He had no sooner regained his seat in the saddle than the 

low tones of S , supported by a levelled pistol, were heard 

warning him that a repetition of that manoeuvre, or any at- 
tempt to escape whatever, would be followed by his instant 
death. 

Having communicated this warning with an accent of voice 
that satisfied the listener that the speaker was ready, and even 



518 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

desirous to carry out his threat, S again darted on, still 

followed by the Federal cavalry. 

No further effort was made by tlie prisoner to escape, and 
the pursuers began gradually to relax the ardour of the chase ; 
but all at once a new danger presented itself. Directly in front 

of them was a large camp ; and to S 's rapid questions, the 

Colonel replied that the camp before tliem was his own. Real- 
ize now, reader, the full comedy of the " situation." S was 

charging at a thundering gallop the camp of a full Federal reg- 
iment, with scores of the men lounging about the opening of 
the tents; and by his side, a prisoner, was the Colonel of the 
regiment, charging, somewhat unwillingly, with his captor ! 
This is not the fancy of a romance-writer, inventing the odd 
contrasts of comedy for the amusement of his readers, but an 
occurrence which really took place just as is here stated. 

The scout was, however, equal to the occasion. Not only did 
he unhesitatingly charge upon the camp, but through it. No 
other course was left ; but even if the choice had been possible, 
this — the boldest — was the safest. It was necessary to take 
the enemy completely by surprise ; and having informed his 
prisoner that at the first outcry which he made, a pistol bullet 
would be sent through his heart, he dug the spur into his horse's 
side, dragged his companion on, and before the thoughtless 
loungers of the camp realized the truth, had darted through 
unopposed, and was racing with his prisoner far beyond pur- 
suit. 

Once in the woods again, S was comparatively safe. 

There was no cavalry near, and the slow infantry could not fol- 
low the rough rider and his captive. To the latter S now 

coolly turned, and demanded his name and regiment. The repl}-^ 
was a sullen refusal to give the required information, and the 
scout saw that " coercion " was absolutely necessary to attain 
his object. He accordingly crossed the pistol which he held in 
his right hand in front of his breast, covered the prisoner's 
heart, and said politely : 

" Colonel, I asked you your name, and the number and State 
of your regiment." 



HOW S CARRIED OFF A FEDERAL FIELD-OFFICER. 519 

" I refused to give it." 

" If you do not, I will kill you." 

This response admitted of no reply. The officer looked at 
his captor, saw that he was quite in earnest, and replied : 

" My name is Colonel , and my regiment is the 

Pennsylvania." 

"All right, Colonel ; I see we understand each other. Now I 
wish you would tell me anything you know that will interest 
me." 

And laughing in his low fashion, the scout rode on with his 
prisoner, whose good-humour gradually began to return. To 

explain this, it may be conjectured that S had not upon 

this occasion encountered a very desperate sou of Mars, but a 
philosopher who contemplated the probabilities of an early 
exchange, and submitted gracefully to his fate. In an hour the 
scout and his prisoner had become quite sociable. 

"That was a daring act of yours," said the Colonel, "and 
you have got out of this thing well." 

" I rather think so. Colonel." 

" I ought to have been more on my guard. Well done — 
yes, very well done! especially going through my camp ! " 

It will be seen that the two had grown quite friendly, and 

this amicable understanding continued uninterrupted. S 

had long since returned to the black leather holster that impo- 
lite instrument lirst directed at his companion's breast, and they 
rode on together in the friendliest manner imaginable, still 
keeping in the woods. 

Night thus surprised them ; and no house being visible, a 
proceeding took place which will seem to display tlie entente 

cordiale between S and his companion. They were both 

sleepy ; they determined to bivouac ; and the scout simply took 
his prisoner's parole not to attempt escape. Five minutes 
afterwards they were sleeping side by side. 

Rising at daylight, they proceeded on their way, and in a 

few hours S was within the Confederate lines with his 

prisoner. 



VI. 
AN ADYENTUHE WITH THE "BLUEBIRDS." 



S is a scout who has had many very curious adventures, as 

the narratives already laid before the reader will serve to show. 
" He is not a " man of peace," nor is his life a tranquil one. 
While you, my dear quiet citizen, have been sleeping in your 
comfortable bed, with the curtains drawn and the firelight shin- 
ing on Brussels carpeting and mahogany furniture, or luxu- 
riously stretching out your slippered feet toward the fender in 
the breakfast-room, as you glance over the morning papers 
before going to your cent, per cent, employments down town ; 
while you have been thus agreeably engaged, not knowing 
what it is to wear a soiled shirt or miss a meal, or suffer from 

cold or fatigue, S has been in the saddle, hungry, weary, 

exposed to rain and snow and storm, hunting Bluebirds. 

Bluebird hunting is not a remunerative employment in a 
pecuniary point of view, but it has its attractions. You don't 
realize a hundred per cent, profit, and you run some risk ; but the 
blood flows faster and much more gloriously through the veins 
than in trade, to say nothing of the " fuller life" it communi- 
cates to all the faculties. But this is not denied. I proceed to 

give a brief account of a recent scout which S made into 

the Federal lines : 

One fine summer day in 1863 he took four men, made his 
way unperceived across the Rappahannock, and soon reached 
the neighbourhood of Warrenton. Leaving that place to his 
left, he struck out with his party for the railroad, and coming 



AN ADVENTURE WITH THE " BLUEBIRDS." 521 

near a Federal camp, placed his four men in ambush, and tak- 
ing a position on the road, awaited the appearance of some prey. 
He had not waited long when a stray Federal cavalry-man came 

along, and seeing S dressed in a blue overcoat and Federal 

accoutrements generally, had no fear of him. His confiding 
simplicity was his ruin. When he had come within a few 

yards S "put his pistol on him," in military parlance, and 

took him prisoner, calling one of his men from the woods to 
take charge of him. The captive had scarcely been conducted 
into the underwood when two others appeared, coming from 

the same direction, and S determined to capture these also. 

He called to the man who had taken charge of the prisoner ; 
but that worthy was too busy rifling the unfortunate bluebird, 

and did not hear. S then resolved to capture the two new 

cavalry-men by himself. He accordingly advanced toward 
them, when suddenly another came out of the woods and joined 
them, making three. He still designed attacking them, when 
another appeared, making four ; and as these now approached 

S they suddenly drew their pistols, and levelling them, 

ordered him to surrender. He was within five feet of them, 
holding his pistol in his hand, and said coolly: 

" "What do you mean ? " 

" We mean," said the men, " that you are a guerilla, and you 
are our prisoner." 

" I am no guerilla," was the reply. 

" What do you belong to ? " 

" The First New Jersey." 

" Who commands it ? " 

" Major Janaway." 

" Right. Who commands the brigade ? " 

" Colonel Taylor." 

" Right again. Where is it stationed? " 

" In the edge of Warrenton." 

" Yes. Who commands the division ? " 

" Look here," said S , who was thoroughly acquainted 

with every part of his role^ " I am tired of your asking me so 
many questions ; but I will answer. The First New Jersey is in 



522 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

Taylor's brigade, Gregg's division, and Pleasanton commands 
the wliole. I belong to the regiment, and am no guerilla." 

" He's all right, boys," said one of the men ; " let him go." 

" JN'o," said another ; " I saw him capture one of our men ten 
minutes- ago." 

"You are mistaken," said S . 

" You are a guerilla ! " exclaimed the man. 

" And how do I know you are not guerillas ? " said S ; 

" you have on blue coats, but let me see your pantaloons." 

They raised their coat-skirts and showed their blue regulation 
pantaloons. 

" Kow show yours," they said. 

S had foreseen this, and readily exhibited his own, which 

were those of a Federal officer. 

" He's one of our officers, boys," said the former spokesman. 

" Yes, I am," said S , " and I'll report you all for this 

conduct." 

" None of your talk," said the incredulous cavalry -man. " I 
IcTWW you are a guerilla, and you've got to go with us." 

" Yery well," returned S ; " the picket post is just down 

the road. I'll take you there and convince you." 

" All right," was the reply ; and they ranged themselves, two 
on each side, with drawn pistols, and all rode back. 

S now saw that it was neck or nothing. If he was con- 
ducted to the picket he knew that his real character would be 
discovered, his fate be a stout rope and a short shrift, and that 
his body would soon be dangling from a tree as a warning to 
all spies. He accordingly watched his chance, and suddenly 
crossing his pistol over his breast, shot the man on his left 
through the back ; a second shot wounded a horse on his 
right ; and all four shot at him so close that their pistols nearly 
touched him. Strange to say, not a ball struck him. 

He then turned his horse and dashed back until he was op- 
posite the point where his men were concealed, when he 

wheeled round, and they all stopped suddenly. S coolly 

crossed his leg over the pommel of his saddle, covered them 
with his pistol, and said : 



AN ADVENTURE WITH THE "BLUEBIRDS." 523 

" Now come ou, you cowardly rascals ! Charge me if you 
dare ! I'm certain of two of you." 

Tliey remained consulting hurriedly within fifteen steps of 
him for some minutes, and then turned round and rode back. 
They had not gone fifty yards, however, when shame seemed 
to overcome them ; and whirling round, the three who were 
unwounded charged him, firing as they came with their pistols. 

S charged forward to meet them, emptying his barrels in 

quick succession ; and the whole party turned their horses and 

fled down the road, S pursuing them with shouts, and firing 

upon them until they had reached their picket post. 

Such was S 's curious adventure. There is no reason to 

doubt it. Every army contains brave men and faint hearts. 
S seems to have encountered the latter. 



PART V. 

LATTER DAYS 



I. 

ON THE ROAD TO PETERSBURG. 



NOTES OF AN OFFICER OF THE C. S. A. 

So June wears on in this good or bad year 1864, and our friend 
General Grant is leaving Cold Harbour for a " new base," I 
think. 

He has had a hard time of it since he crossed the Rapidan, 
and we also ; figliting in the Wilderness, (I came near "going 
under " there) ; fighting at Spotsylvania Court-House {our Po 
is more famous now than the classic stream of Yirgil) ; fighting 
on the Korth Anna, a maiden who stretched her arms between 
the fierce combatants and commanded the peace ; fighting on 
the slopes of Hanover, when that Indian girl, the Tottapotamoi, 
did the same ; and then fighting here, how fiercely ! on the 
famous ground of old Cold Harbour, where the thunder of the 
guns has seemed to man}'- like an echo of those guns of 
McClellan, which made such a racket hereabouts in June,l 862, 
just two years since ! 

A good many things have happened since that period, but we 
remain more faithful to our first loves than the blue people. 
Then the Federal commander-in-chief was called McClellan — 
now he is called Grant. The leader of the South was then 
called Lee, and Lee is his name to-day. But each seems to 
have a constant, never-faltering attachment for the " good old 
])hice," Cold Harbour, just as they appear to have for the bloom- 
ing j^a/'^fcrre* of the beautiful and smiling Manassas ! The little 
affair near Stone Bridge, in July, 1861, was not sufiicient ; again 



528 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

in August, 1862, the bine and gray lovers of the historic locality 
• must hug each other in the dear old place ! " Malbrook s'en 
va-t en guerre," to the old tune on the old ground ! 

The game is played here for the present, however. Every 
assault, upon the Confederate lines has been repulsed with heavy 
loss, and Grant has evidently abandoned any further attempt 
to storm them ; he is moving toward James river. The fight- 
ing has been heavy, incessant, deadly. Wind, rain, sunshine, 
heat, cold, nothing has stopped it. But the Southern lines have 
stood intact ; so the war goes elsewhere. It is escorted on its 
way, as usual, with a salute. 

This morning a decided racket is going on. Boom ! boom ! 
whiz-z-z-z ! pow-w-w-w ! there is a shell which has burst near 
me. Won't our friends across the way permit an inoffensive 
Confederate to smoke his pipe in peace, without disturbance 
from tliese disgusting visitors ? 1 have just dined on an in- 
finitesimal ration, and am smoking peaceably when my reverie 
is thus invaded. That shell, which in bursting has raised a 
little cloud of dust, might have hurt me ; it has interrupted 
me. Why do they fire so high, and why at one ? I am not 
a general. My flag is not up. I am not even fighting to-day. 
I am smoking, and indulging no sort of spite against anybody. 
I am thinking of some scenes and faces an enormous distance 
from this spot, and am, in every sense of the words, " off duty." 
It is pleasure, not duty, which enthralls me. Recreation, not 
work, is my programme for the nonce. Respect, my friends, 
the rights of a neutral and non-combatant ! 

The cannonade continues. They are having a hot artillery 
skirmish yonder, but I go on smoking without much excitement 
thereat, being used to it. The time was when we fought 
pitched battles once or twice a year, killed each other all day 
long seGundem artem, and then relapsed into gentlemanly re- 
pose and amity, undisturbed save by the petite guerre of the 
pickets. At that remote period, the present elderly, battered, 
and unexcitable warrior, used to rush " to horse " at the first 
roar of the cannon ; for the roar in question preceded a general 
and decisive engagement, in which every man ought to be " on 



ON THE ROAD TO PETERSBURG. 529 

lumd." Now we have changed all that, or rather the enemj 
liave. Once, under McClellan, they seemed only bent on fight- 
ing big battles, and making a treaty of peace. Now they seem 
determined to drive us to the last ditch, and into it, the mother 
earth to be shovelled over us. Virginia is no longer a battle- 
field, but a living, shuddering body, upon which is to be in- 
flicted the immedicahile vulnus of all-destroying war. So be 
it ; she counted the cost, and is not yet at the last ditch. 

All that talk about immedicable wounds and last ditches has 
diverted me from the contrast I was drawing between the past 
and present. Then, 1 meant to say, I always started up at the 
cannon's roar, expecting a decisive battle ; now, so incessant 
and so indecisive is the fighting, I lie under my tree and smoke, 
and dream of other scenes, scarcely conscious that those guns 
are thundering yonder, and that many a brave fellow is utter- 
ing his last groan. Thus we harden. Do I think of "those 
blue eyes ? " Well, the comrade dying yonder thinks of the 
])air he knows. Poor fellow ! then I return to my reverie. 

The war grows tedious ; carnage bores one. " Bores ! ! ! " 
Tliis is, I think, about the fortieth day of fighting. We had 
the " seven days' battles around Kichmond " in 1862. Is this 
campaign to be tlie " seventy days' battles around Virginia ? " 
The game keeps up with wonderful animation ; guns roaring, 
shell bursting, and listen ! that long, sustained, resolute crash 
of the deadly small-arms ! Suddenly it stops ; but a good many 
brave fellows have "gone under " in that five minutes' work. 
This takes place at all hours of the day and night. Grant keeps 
"pegging away." To-day he seems to gain something, but 
to-morrow Lee stands like a lion in his path, and all the advan- 
tage is lost. We continue to repulse every attack along the 
bristling lines, as in 1862. Grant ends where McClellan began ; 
upon the ground at least. We hold our own. " Lee's army 
is an army of veterans," writes the correspondent of a Northern 
journal; "it is an instrument sharpened to a perfect edge. 
You turn its fianks ; well, its flanks are made to be turned. 
Tills eflfects little or nothing. All that we can reckon as gained, 
therefore, is the loss of life inflicted on the enemy, and of having 

34 



530 WEARING OF THE GRAY, 

reached a point thus near the objective, but no brilliant military 
results." Candid and true. They lose more heavily — the enemy 
— than we do, but our precious blood flows daily. Poor Char- 
ley ! A braver soul was never born into this M^orld than 

his ; an-d, since something happened to him, he has been quite 
reckless. He is dead yonder, on the slopes of Hanover, lighting 
his guns to the last. And that greater figure of Stuart ; he has 
fallen, too ! How he would have reigned, the King of Battle, 
in this hot campaign, clashing against the hosts of Sheridan in 
desperate conflict ! What deathless laurels would he have won 
for himself in this hurly-burly, when the war grows mad and 
reckless ! But those laurels are deathless now, and bloom in 
perennial splendour! Stuart is dead at the Yellow Tavern 
yonder, and sleeps at Hollywood ; but as the dying Adams said 
of Jeflrerson,he "still lives" — lives in every heart, the greatest 
of the Southern cavaliers ! His plume still floats before the 
eyes of the gray horsemen, and " history shall never forget him ! " 
There was Gordon, too — alive but the other day, now dead 
and gone whither so many comrades have preceded him. He 
fell in that same fierce onslaught on the enemy's cavalry, when 
they tried to enter Richmond by the Brook road, in that sud- 
den attack which saved the capital. "I blamed Stuart once 
for his reckless attack with so small a force as he then had on 
80 large a one as the enemy's," said a most intelligent gentle- 
man of the neighbourhood to me not long since ; " but now I 
know that he proved himself here, as everywhere, the great 
soldier, and that he thereby saved Richmond." And the gal- 
lant Gordon ! how well I knew him, and how we all loved him ! 
Tall, elegant in person, distinguished in address, with a charm- 
ing suavity and gaiety, he was a universal favourite. Of 
humour how rich ! of bearing how frank and cordial ! of cour- 
age how stern and obstinate! Under fire, Gordon was a per- 
fect rock ; nothing could move him. In camp, off duty, he 
was the soul of good-fellowship. His bow and smile were inimi- 
table, his voice delightful. He would present a bouquet to a 
lady with a little speech which nobody else could approach ; 
and, at the head of the " Old First " North Carolina cavalry, 



ON THE ROAD TO PETERSBURG. o31 

lie would have charged McClellan's massed artillery at Malvern 
llill. "We used to tell him that his rapid rise to the rank of 
General was the result of his " personal, political, and pecuni- 
ary position;" but that alliterative accusation was only a jest. 
Tie won his rank by hard fighting and hard work ; he gave the 
South all he had— his time, his toil, his brain ; she demanded 
his life, and he gave that, too, without a murmur. Peace to 
that brave ! 

These memories seduce me. I am getting triste — blue. I 
do not like blue, having so many disagreeable associations con- 
nected with it ; I prefer gray. Blue eyes and blue skies are 
exceptions, however. I diifer with General Henry A. Wise, 
who said to me once, "I like a gray day.''' Hurrah for the 
sunshine, and up with the flag that has '' Vive la joie ! " for its 
motto. We need all the sunshine and gaiety that is attainable, 
for whatever may be thought of our friend General Ulysses 
Grant's genius as a soldier, he allows the gray people very 
little time for relaxation or amusement. I think McClellan is 
the better general, but the present generalissimo does " keep 
pegging away " with unusual regularity ! There is another roar ; 
but the artillery fire has slackened. Now the sound is heard 
only at intervals. The desultory " wood-chopping" of the sharp- 
shooters comes from the woods and gradually recedes. Grant 
is moving. 



n. 

We strike tents, shoulder arms — I do not, I only buckle on a 
sabre — cross the Chickahominy, and take up the line of niarch 
for the James river — hungry. 

A tedious march down the right bank of the "Swamp," into 
the low grounds of Charles City, everywhere facing Grant; 
line of battle ; fighting on the long bridge road ; men throw- 
ing up earthworks with their bayonets in twenty minutes, 
Mhenever they stop; sun rising and setting; wind blowing; 
woods reverberating with shots; column still moving toward 



532 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

James river. Then the question is settled ; General Grant is 
going to try the Petersburg line of advance on Richmond, with 
his base at City Point. 

Judicious ! General Lee said a year ago, I am told, that this 
was the quarter from which Richmond was most exposed. That 
terrible question of our " communications" — the Southern rail- 
roads ! After all, it is bread and meat which will decide this 
war, or rather, I am afraid, the want of it. The granaries of 
the Gulf States are full, and we are starving. Who is to blame ? 
History will answer that question. The time will come when 
the survivors of this army, or their children, will know why 
we are left to starve upon a microscopic ration — " so-called " — 
of meat, which just enables a man to carry a musket and car- 
tridge-box without staggering and falling upon the mar'ch, 
or in battle, from exhaustion ! Some day we will know that ; 
meanwhile we go on starving, and try to do the work. Close 
up! 

Over James river above Drury's Bluff — not "Fort Darling,'' 
nobody ever heard of that place — on pontoons. The artillery 
moves on all night ; I and the most amiable of Inspector-Gene- 
rals bivouac with saddles for pillows in a clover-field. "We 
have just passed an ancient-looking house, but seeing no 
light, forebore from arousing the lady of the establishment, 
preferring to sleep al fresco, by the camp-fire. Yonder, through 
the gloaming, as I lie on my red blanket — from Chancellors- 
ville— with feet to the rail fire, and my head on my English 
saddle, as I smoke — iiot after supper — yonder I see the old 
house. It is not a very imposing place. Set upon a handsome 
hill, amid waving fields, above the James, nearly opposite the 
Randolph house of " Wilton," it would be attractive in " good 
times." But now it is pulled to pieces and dust-covered. For 
the cannon of the Array of Northern Virginia have rolled by' 
the door hour after hour, and the trampling hoofs of the cavalry 
have raised clouds of dust, hanging on the trees and walls. 
House, out-buildings, fences (broken down), grass-plat, box-rows 
— all disappear under the cloud. Dust is king there. We drop 
asleep with rosy visions ; for, in passing the house, an Ethiopian 



ON THE ROAD TO PETERSBURG. 533 

friund named Richard, who snhsequently kindled our rail fire 
for ns, promised us breakfast. We rise at dawn, repair to the 
establisliment, make our toilets (I always carry soap, brush, and 
towel in my haversack), and are shown into the drawing-room, 
to which the ladies have not descended, though they have sent 
polite messages touching breakfast. 

It is with real historic interest that I gaze upon this old 
mansion. For this is "Ampthill," the former residence of the 
famous Colonel Archibald Cary of the first Revolution — the 
man of the low stature, the wide shoulders, the piercing eyes, 
and the stern will. He was of noble descent, being the heir 
apparent to the barony of Hnnsdon when he died ; sat in the 
Virginia Convention of 1776 ;' lived with the eyes of his great 
contemporaries fixed on him— with the ears of George Wash- 
ington, Thomas Jefferson, and George Mason, listening to hear 
him speak, and was the sort of man who will " stand no non- 
sense." When the question of appointing Patrick Henry 
Dictator was agitated, Cary said to Henry's brother-in-law, 
" Sir, tell your brother that if he is made Dictator, my dagger 
shall be in his breast before the sunset of that day ! " There 
spoke " Cary of Ampthill," as they used to call him — a man 
who religiously kept his word, saying little and performing 
much. Hardest of the hard-headed, in fact, was this Ampthill 
Cary, and his contemporaries nicknamed him " Old Iron" 
therefor. He played a great part in old times — he is dead in 
this good year 1864, many a long day ago — but this is his 
house. Looking around at the wainscoted walls, the ample 
a]>artments, and with a view of the extensive out-buildings 
through the window, I come to the conclusion that those old 
Virginians had a tolerably good idea of " how to live." Here 
is a house in M-hich a reasonable individual could be happy, 
provided he had a pleasing young personage of the opposite 
sex to assist him. Woodwork to the ceiling; wide windows; 
trees waving without, and green fields stretching far away to 
rhe horizon ; pure airs from the river fanning the cheek, and 
moving gently the bright plumage of the singing birds perched 
amid the rustling foliage — Cary of Ampthill must surely have 



534 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

l)een a gcnneman of taste. Is that him yonder, sitting on the 
porch and reading his old blurred " Virginia Gazette^'''' con- 
taining the announcement of the proposed passage of a Stamp 
Act in the English Parliament? That must be "Old Iron." 
He wears ruffles at his breast, knee-breeches, a coat with barrel 
sleeves covered with embroidery, a pigtail, and a cocked hat. 
His shoulders are broad, his frame low, his eye piercing — and 
I think he is swearing as he reads about the doings of parlia- 
ment. He has apparently just returned from inspecting the 
blood-horses in his stables, and after taking his morning julep, 
is reading the Gazette^ and pondering on the probable results 
of secession from England, with the sword exercise which is 
sure to follow. But look ! he raises his head. A gun sounds 
from down the river, reverberating amid the bluffs, and echoing 
back from the high banks around "Wilton," where his friend 
Mr. Randolph lives. It must be the signal of a ship just 
arrived from London, in this month of June, 1764; the Fly- 
hy-Night, most probably, with all the list of articles which 
Colonel Gary sent for — new suits for himself from the 
London tailors (no good ones in this colony as yet), fine silks 
for the ladies, wines from Madeira, and Bordeaux, and Oporto, 
new editions of the " Tattler," or " Spectator," or " Tom 
Jones," all paid for by the tobacco crop raised here at Ampt- 
hill. The Fly-hy-lSfight probably brings also the London 
Gazette^ showing what view is taken in England of the " rising 
spirit of rebellion " in the colonies, and what the ministers 
think of the doctrine of coercion. Our present Governor, 
Fauquier, is not wholly "sound," it is thought, upon these 
questions, and Lord Dunmore it is supposed will succeed him. 
A second gun ! The Gap tain of the Fly-hy-NigJd seems to 
have anchored at the wharf, and the swivel, announcing his 
arrival to his patrons, is making a jolly racket. Again ! — and 
there again ! Bomb ! bomb ! bomb ! bomb ! Gan that be the 
Fly-hy- Night, and is that Mr. Randolph galloping up in hot 
haste from the ferry opposite " Wilton ? " 

It is a courier who stops a moment to tell me that the Yankee 
gunboats have opened below Drury's BlufiT, and are trying to 



ON THE KOAD TO PETERSBURG. 535 

force a passage through the obstructions. So my (Tream is bro- 
ken; I wake in the every-day world of 1864; the year 1764 has 
quite disappeared ; and Gary of Ampthill — where is his figure f 
That is only my friend, the amiable Inspector-General, on the 
porch, reading a copy of the RicTiinond Examiner. I took his 
looped-up felt for a cocked hat, and his officer's braid for the 
ante-revolutionary embroidery ! So the past disappears, but 
the winds are blowing, and the cloud-shadows float just as they 
did one hundred years ago. The fields are green again, the 
river breeze comes to me with its low sweet murmur, and the 
birds are singing in the trees as they sang for Gary of Ampt- 
hill. 
"Gentlemen, wilt you walk in to breakfast? " 
O most prosaic — but also most agreeable of announcements! 
The past and its memories fade ; we are again in the present, 
as the most agreeable of odours indicates ! 



II. 
A FAMILY RIFLE-PIT. 



AH INCIDENT OF WILSON S RAID. 



In war the bloody and the grotesque are strangely mingled ; 
comedy succeeds tragedy with startling abruptness ; and laugh- 
ter issues from the lips when the tears upon the cheek are 
scarcely dry. 

I had never heard of a " family rifle-pit " before June, 
1864. I am going to give the reader the benefit of the know- 
ledge I acquired on that occasion. 

General Grant was then besieging Petersburg, or Richmond 
rather, if we are to believe the military gentlemen who edited 
the New York newspapers ; and having failed to drive Lee 
from his earthworks, where the Virginian persisted in remain- 
ing despite every effort made to oust him, the Federal com- 
mander organized an enormous " raid " against the Southside 
and the Danville railroads, by which Lee was supplied. The 
result of this cavalry movement is known. Generals Wilson, 
Kautz, and others who commanded in the expedition, were 
successful in their object, so far as the destruction of a large 
part of the railroads went ; but when they attempted to return 
to their infantry lines, below Petersburg, they " came to grief." 
Hampton and the Lees assailed them, forced them to abandon 
their artillery and ambulances on the old stage road near 
Reams' Station, and it was only by a resolute effort that the 
remnants of the Federal cavalry got home again. 

It was a few days after the raid that the present writer rode, on 



A FAMILY RIFLE-PIT. 537 

duty, tlirongh the region which the opposing cavalry bad fonght 
over, looking with interest upon the marks of the hard strug- 
gle, on the dead horses, half-burnt vehicles, and remains of ar- 
tillery carriages, with the spokes hacked hastily in pieces, and 
the guns dismounted. But these results of combat — of retreat 
and pursuit — are familiar to the reader, doubtless, and not of 
very great interest to the present writer. 

The " Wilson and Kautz raid " would indeed have been for- 
gotten long ago by him, but for the " family rifle-pit " men- 
tioned above, and to this the attention of the worthy reader is 
now requested. 

I heard all about it from a very charming lady who resided 
in a little house on the roadside, not very far from Reams',; 
and before me, as the bright eyes flashed and the red lips told 
the story, was the scene of the events narrated. In front, 
across the road, was a field of oats ; beyond was a belt of woods ; 
the country all around was a dead and dusty level, scorching 
in the sun. The house had a yard, and in this yard was a well 
with a " sweep," as they call it, I believe, in Dinvviddie, which 
is pronounced by the inhabitants Dunwoody, which " sweep " 
is a great beam balanced in the crotch of a tree, a bucket be- 
ing suspended to one end of the beam by a pole, and hanging 
above the well, into which it is made to descend by working 
tJie pole downwards with the hands. 

In the small house lived Mr. , from Gloucester, with his 

wife and family of small children — all refugees. For a long 
time it seemed that the amiable household would remain quite 
undisturbed ; they had scarcely seen a single blue-coat. But 
suddenly, one bright June morning, the road, the fields, the 
woods, the yard, the porch, and the mansion, swarmed with 
Federal cavalry, coming from the direction of Prince George. 

It was soon ascertained that General Wilson was " riding a 
raid," witliout the fear of Confederates before his eyes ; and 
had thus come to Reams' Station, on the Weldon Railroad, 
where a force of Rebel cavalry was expected to be encoun- 
tered. Scouting parties had accordingly been thrown forward, 
a reconnoissance made, sharpshooters were advanced, the cav- 



538 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

airy moved behind in column of squadrons, and the house and 

family of Mr. were captured, not to mention some old 

negroes, and very young ones — the latter clad, for the most 
part, in a single garment, adapted rather to the heat of the 
weather than to the production of an imposing eiFect. 

The cavalry-men crowded to the well, swarmed through the 
grounds, and then commenced a scene well known to many a 
family in the South. The lives of venerable ducks were sacri- 
ficed, in spite of their piteous quacking ; frightened chickens 
were chased and knocked over with sticks; calves were shot, 
and the hen-roost and dairy cleared with a rapidity and skill 
which indicated thorough practice. In ten minutes the yard 
was duckless and chickenless ; the dairy was crockless, the 
hen-roost innocent of eggs. The besom of destruction seemed 
to have passed over the whole, and the hungry bluebirds were 
cooking and devouring their spoil. 

Unfortunately for Mr. , they were not satisfied with 

poultry, butter, and eggs. They wanted hams — and an officer, 

Mrs. assured me, demanded her keys. When she assured 

him that her children required this food, the officer's reply was 
an insult, and the young lady was forced to deliver to him the 

key of her smoke-house, which was speedil}'' rifled. Mrs. 

was looking on with bitter distress ; but all at once her pride 
was aroused — the Southern woman flamed out! 

" Take it if you choose," she said, with sarcasm ; " I can 
easily send word to General Lee at Petersburg, and meat will 
be supplied me ! There are twelve months' rations for the 
whole army in Kichmond " (I hope the recording angel blot- 
ted out that statement !) ; " and if you do cut the railroad, Gen- 
eral Lee's army will not suffer, but be just as strong and brave 
as ever ! " 

"That's foolish — it will ruin him ! " said one of the men, 

"You will see," was the reply. "Do you think General 
Lee could not prevent your coming here if he wished to ? 
He wants you to come, for he expects to catch you all — every 
man — before you get away ! " 

This new and striking view of the subject seemed to produce 



A FAMILY KIFLE-PIT. 539 

a deep effect upon the liateners. They paused in their depre- 
dations, looked doubtfully around them, and one of them, put- 
ting his hand before his mouth, said aside to a comrade : 

"I believe what she says! Mr. Lee can get us all away 
from here quick enough, and I'm sorry that we ever come ! " 

Thirty minutes after the appearance of the enemy, the house 
and grounds were stripped. Then they disappeared on their 
way toward the Danville road. 

Two or tiiree days thereafter, it was known that General Wil- 
son's column had cut the road, but were tailing back rapidly 
before Lee and Hampton ; that they had abandoned sixteen 
pieces of artillery, and were now striving, with exhausted men 
and horses, to cross the Weldon road and get back to their 
lines. 

There was a very brave gentleman, of the Fifth Virginia 
Cavalry — Captain Thaddeus Fitzhugh — the same who had 
crossed the Chesapeake in an open boat, with a few men, and 
captured a detachment of the enemy, and a steamboat which 
he brought off and destroyed, in the fall of 1863. Captain 
Fitzhugh was sitting in the porch of Mrs. 's house, con- 
versing with the lady, when looking up, he saw a large body 
of the enemy's cavalry just across the wood. The odds were 
great, but the Captain did not retreat. He threw himself on 
horseback, leaped the fence toward the enemy, and firing his 
pistol at them, shouted : 

" Come on, boys ! Charge ! Butler's brigade is coming ! " 

Having made this appeal to an imaginary squadron, the Cap- 
tain rode across their front ; but suddenly came the clatter of 
hoofs, the rattle of sabres, and some shots. Butler's brigade had 
arrived, and the Federal cavalry melted away into the woods 
so rapidly, that an old negro, hiding with his mule in the covert, 
said they " nuver see mule, nor nothin', hi ! hi ! " 

General Butler — that brave soldier and most courteous of 
gentlemen — drew up his brigade ; all was ready for the coming 
combat ; and then it was that the question arose of the " family 
rilie-pit." 

Nervous, unstrung, trembling at the thought that her chil- 



540 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

dren were about to be exposed to the enemy's fire, Mrs. 

ran out to the Confederate cavalry in front of her house, and 
seeing one of the officers, asked him what she should do. His 
reply was : 

" Madam, I would advise you to shelter your family at once, 
as we expect to begin fighting at any moment." 

" But I have no place, sir ! " exclaimed the lady, in despair. 

" There is probably a cellar " 

" No ; the house has none ! " 

" Can't you get behind a hill, madam ? " 

The lady gazed around ; the country was as flat as a table. 

" There is not the least knoll, even, sir ! " 

" Then, madam," said the practical and matter-of-fact ofiicer, 
" I can only suggest a rifle-pit ; your husband and servants 
might dig it ; and that will certainly protect you." 

Odd as the suggestion may seem, it was immediately adopted, 
as the most commonplace and reasonable thing in the world. 

The lady thanked the ofiicer, hastened back to the house — 
and now behold the grand family hegira toward the field be- 
yond the house ! 

First came Mr. and an old servant, carrying spades 

to dig the rifle-pit ; next came the little family, who had hastily 
taken up whatever they saw first, and especially noticeable 
was the young heir of the house. Dimly realizing, apparently, 
that their absence might be eternal, he had secured a small tin 
cup and two dilapidated old hats, wherewith to comfort him- 
self in exile ; last of all, and in rear, that is, between her off- 
spring and the bullets, came the beautiful young mother, full 
of anxious solicitude ; trembling, but proud and defiant. 

I should like to possess your portrait, could it have been 
taken at that moment, madam ! — to look again to-day, in the 
hours of a dull epoch, upon the kind, good face which smiled 
so sweetly yonder, making sunshiue in the pine-woods of Din- 
widdle. 

And the family rifle-pit was dug by rapid hands ; the lady 
and the children looking on with deep interest. Foremost 
among the spectators was the brave little urchin grasping his 



A FAMILY RIFLE-PIT. 541 

battered tin cup and tattered old luits, to the possession of 
which he seemed to.attacli a romantic value. Soon a pile of 
earth arose ; a long trench had been dug ; and the lady and 
her children took refuge therein at the moment when the crack 
of carbines resounded, and bullets began to hiss above the im- 
promptu earthworks. It was not doomed to be tested by round- 
shot or shell from the enemy's cannon. They had abandoned 
their artillery from tlie impossibility of getting through with 
it; and only their carbine-balls whistled above the cowering 
inmates of the rifle-pit. 

Then even these no longer came to make the mother's lieart 
tremble for Her children. Butler's men had charged ; the 
enemy had given way ; when the charming person who related 
to me this grotesque incident emerged from her place of refuge, 
not a single Federal cavalry-man was in siglit. Only the dis- 
mantled grounds and the family rifle-pit remained to show 
that the whole was not some nightmare of darkness, wliich had 
flown with the coming of sunshine. 



A FIGHT, A DEAD MAN, AND A COFFIN. 



AN INCIDENT OF 1864. 



The incident about to be narrated occurred in November, 1864, 
when Early with his 8,000 or 9,000 men had been compelled to 
retire up the Yallej before Sheridan, with his 30,000 or 40,000 ; 
and when, in the excess of their satisfaction at this triumph of 
the Federal arms, the Federal authorities conceived the design 
of ferreting out and crushing in the same n^anner the band of 
the celebrated bandit Mosbj — which result once achieved by the 
commander of the " Middle Department," the whole of Northern 
Virginia would be reduced under the sway of the Stars and Stripes. 

To ferret out Colonel Mosby was a difficult task, however; 
and to crush him had, up to this time, proved an undertaking 
beyond the ability of the best partisans of the Federal army. 
Not that they had not made numerous and determined attempts 
to accomplish this cherished object. In fact, no pains had been 
spared. Mosby had proved himself so dangerous a foe to wagon 
trains, lines of communication, and foraging parties, that the 
generals whose trains were destroyed, whose communications 
were interrupted, and whose detached parties were captured, had 
on many occasions sworn huge oaths to arrest his " depreda- 
tions ; " and more than once the most skilful partisan officers, in 
command of considerable bodies of picked men, had been sent 
into the wilds of the Blue Ridge, or to " Mosby's Confederacy " — 
that is to say, the county of Fauquier — to waylay and destroy 
or capture this wily foe who had so long eluded them. 

All had failed. Mosby refused to be captured or destroyed. 
If a large force came against him, he retreated to his mountain 



A FIGHT, A DEAD MAN, AND A COFFIN. 543 

fastnesses — not a trace of bis existence could be found. If the 
force was small, he attacked and nearly always cut to pieces or 
captured it. With his headquarters near Piedmont Station, on 
the Manassas railroad, east of the Ridge, he knew by his scouts 
of any movement ; then couriers were seen going at full gallop 
to summon the men, scattered rfmong the mountain spurs, or 
waiting at remote houses in the woods, to the previously speci- 
fied rendezvous — at Markham's, Upperville, Paris, Oak Grove, 
or elsewhere ; then Mosby set out ; and he nearly always came 
back with spoils — that is to say, arms, horses, and prisoners. 

In November, 1864, this state of things had become intolera- 
ble. Early had been forced to retire — that wolf with the sharp 
claws; but Mosby, the veritable wildcat, still lingered in the 
country as dangerous as ever. Immense indignation was expe- 
rienced by the enemy at this persistent defiance ; and an addi- 
tional circumstance at this time came to add fuel to the flame 
of the Federal displeasure. Hitherto, the Confederate partisan 
had operated generally east of the Blue Ridge, between the 
mountains and Manassas, guarding that whole country. With 
the transfer of active hostilities, however, to the Valley, in the 
summer and fall of 1864, he had turned his attention more espe- 
cially to that region. There were to be found the trains of 
Hunter and Sheridan, the wandering parties of " Jesse Scouts," 
clad in gray, whom he delighted to encounter : in the Valley not 
east of the Ridge was his most favourable field of operations — 
and, above all, it was there that his services were chiefly needed 
to protect the inhabitants from the depredations of these 
detached parties which spread such terror amid the popu- 
lation. 

To the Valley Mosby accordingly directed his attention, and 
this region thenceforth became his main field of operations. 
Scarce a day passed without an attack upon some wandering 
party, upon some string of wagons, or upon the railroad by 
which the Federal army was supplied. These stirring adven- 
tures are the subject of a volume which will soon appear from 
the accomplished Major Scott, of Fauquier. The object of 
this chapter is to record the particulars of one of the fights 



544 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

referred to, in which a small band of Confederates under Captain 
Mountjoj, that accomplished partisan of Mosby's command, 
suffered a reverse. 

Were it within the scope of the present article to draw an 
outline of the person and character of this brave gentleman — 
Captain Mountjoy — many readers, we are sure, would derive 
pleasure from the perusal of our sketch. Never was a braver 
heart than his — never a more refined and admirable breeding. 
Gallant-looking, cool, courteous, with his calm sad face over- 
shadowed by the drooping hat with its golden cord ; wearing 
sword and pistol like a trained cavalryman ; not cast down by 
reverses, not elated by success — a splendid type of the great 
Mississippi race from which he sprung, and a gentleman " every 
inch of him." Mountjoy's was a face, a figure, and a bearing 
which attracted the eyes of all who admire in men the evidences 
of culture, resolution, and honour. But this is not the place to 
record the virtues of that brave true heart, gone now with many 
others to a land where war never comes. We proceed to record 
the incident which we have refer.red to. 

It occurred, as we have said, in November, 1864, and the 
scene was a mansion perched upon a hill, with a background of 
woods, between the little village of Millwood and the Shenan- 
doah. This house was well known to Mosby, well known to 
Mountjoy, well known to many hundreds of Confederate soldiers, 
who — God be thanked ! — never left its door without food, with- 
out receiving all that it was in the power of the family to give 
them, and that without money and without price. 

A day or two before the incident about to be related, Mount- 
joy had gone with a considerable party of men, towards Charles- 
town ; had made an attack ; secured numerous horses and prison- 
ers ; and on this afternoon was returning towards Millwood — 
only by the river road — to cross the Shenandoah at Berry's 
ferr}', and secure his captures. Mountjoy had but one fault as 
an officer — rashness. On this occasion he was rash. As he 
returned from his scout, and arrived opposite the different fords, 
he permitted, first one, then another, then whole squads of his 
men to cross to their homes east of the Kidge, so that on reach- 



A FIGHT, A DEAD MAN, AND A COFFIN. 545 

ing a point nearly opposite Millwood, he had with him only 
fifteen men guarding the numerous horses and prisoners. 

Then came the hostile fate — close on his heels. The attack 
made by him upon the enemy down the river had greatly 
enraged them. They had hastily mustered a considerable force 
to pursue him and recapture the prisoners, and as he reached 
Morgan's Lane, near the Tilthammer Mill, this party, about one 
hundred in number, made a sudden and unexpected attack upon 
him. 

The force was too great to meet front to front, and the ground 
so unfavourable for receiving their assault, that Mountjoy gave 
the order for his men to save themselves, and they abandoned 
the prisoners and horses, put spurs to their animals, and retreated 
at full gallop past the mill, across a little stream, and up the long 
hill upon which was situated the mansion above referred to. 
Behind them the one hundred Federal cavalrymen came on at 
full gallop, calling upon them to halt, and firing volleys into 
them as they retreated. 

We beg now to introduce upon the scene the female dramatis 
"personce of the incident — two young ladies who had hastened out 
to the fence as soon as the firing began, and now witnessed the 
whole. As they reached the fence, the fifteen men of Captain 
Mountjoy appeared, mounting the steep road like lightning, 
closely pursued by the Federal cavalry, whose dense masses 
completely filled the narrow road. The scene at the moment 
was sufficient to try the nerves of the young ladies. The clash 
of hoofs, the qrack of carbines, the loud cries of "halt! halt! ! 
halt ! ! ! " — this tramping, shouting, banging, to say nothing of 
the quick hiss of bullets filling the air, rendered the " place and 
time " more stirring than agreeable to one consulting the dictates 
of a prudent regard to his or her safety. 

Nevertheless, the young ladies did not stir. They had half 
mounted the board fence, and in this elevated position were 
exposed to a close and dangerous fire ; more than one bullet 
burying itself in the wood close to their persons. But they did 
not move — and this for a reason more creditable than mere 
curiosity to witness the engagement, which may, however, have 

35 



646 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

counted for something. This attracted them, but they were 
engaged in " doing good " too ! It was of the last importance 
that the men should know where they could cross the river. 

" Where is the nearest ford ? '' they shouted. 

" In the woods there ! " was the reply of one of the young 
ladies, pointing with her hand, and not moving. 

*' How can we reach it ? " 

" Through that gate." 

And waving her hand, the speaker directed the rest, amid a 
storm of bullets burying themselves in the fence close beside 
her. 

The men went at full gallop towards the ford. Last of all 
came Mountjoy — but Mountjoy, furious, foaming almost at the 
mouth, on fire with indignation, and uttering oaths so frightful 
that they terrified the young ladies much more than the balls, or 
the Federal cavalry darting up the hill. 

Let us here, in parenthesis, as it were, offer a proof of that 
high-breeding we have claimed for Captain Mountjoy. A young 
lady expressed afterwards her regret that so brave a gentleman 
should have uttered an oath, and this came to his ears. He at 
once called to see her and said gravely, in his calm, sad voice. 
"I am sorr}'- that I swore. I will try not to do so again, but I 
was very angry that day, as the men might have whipped the 
enemy in spite of their numbers, if I could only have gotten 
them to make a stand, and this was before you." 

But that was when his blood was cool. At the moment when 
he brought up the rear of the men, Mountjo}'- was raging. 
Nevertheless he stopped in the very face of the enemy, besought 
the young ladies to leave the fence where they were exposing 
themselves to imminent danger, and then, still furious, he disap- 
peared, most of all enraged, as he afterwards explained, that this 
stampede of his men and himself should have taken place in the 
presence of the young ladies. 

The partisan had scarcely disappeared in the woods, when the 
enemy rushed up, and demanded which way the Confederates 
had taken. 

" I will not tell you I " was the reply of the youngest girl. 



A FIGHT, A DEAD MAN, AND A COFFIN. 547 

The trooper drew a pistol, and cocking it, levelled it at her 
head. 

" Which way ? " he thundered. 
The young lady shrunk from the muzzle, and said : 
" How do I know ? " 

" Move on ! " resounded from the lips of the officer in com- 
mand, and the column rushed by, nearly trampling upon the 
ladies, who ran to the house. 

Here a new incident greeted them, and one sufficiently tragic. 
Before the door, sitting his horse, was a trooper, clad in blue 
— and at sight of him the ladies shrunk back. A second glance 
showed them that he was bleeding to death from a mortal 
wound. The bullet had entered his side, traversed the body, 
issued from the opposite side, inflicting a wound which rendered 
death almost certain. 

" Take me from my horse ! " murmured the wounded man, 
stretching out his arms and tottering. 
The young girls ran to him. 

" "Who are you — one of the Yankees ? " tlicy exclaimed. 
" Oh, no ! " was the faint reply. " I am one of Mountjoy's 
men. Tell him, when you see him, that I said, ' Captain, this 
is the first time I have gone out with you, and the last ! ' " 
As they assisted him from the saddle, he murmured : 
" My name is William Armistead Braxton. I have a wife 
and three little children living in Hanover — you must let them 

know " 

Then the poor fellow fainted ; and the young ladies were 
compelled to carry him in their arms into the house, where he 
was laid upon a couch, writhing in great agony. 

They had then time to look at him, and saw before them a 
young man of gallant countenance, elegant figure — in every out- 
line of his person betraying the gentleman born and bred. They 
afterwards discovered that he had just joined Mosby, and that, 
as he had stated, this was his first scout. Poor fellow ! it was 
also his last. 

The scene which followed has more than once been described 
to the present writer, and it made a dolorous impression on his 



548 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

heart. The wounded man lay upon the couch, struggling against 
death, writhing with his great agony, and bleeding so profusely 
that the couch was saturated with his blood. Even in that 
moment, however, the instincts of gentle breeding betrayed 
themselves in the murmured words : 

" My spurs will — tear the cover — lay me — on the floor." 

This, of course, was not complied with, and the young ladies 
busied themselves attempting to bind up his wound. 

While one was thus engaged, another hastened to unbuckle 
his belt, in order to secure his pistol. This was necessary, as 
the Federal cavalry was already trampling in front of the house, 
and shouting to the inmates. 

Unable to undo the belt, the young lady quickly drew the 
])istol from its holster, secreted it in a closet, and turning round, 
saw that in this moment the dying man had rolled from the 
couch upon the floor, where he was exclaiming : " Lord Jesus, 
have pity upon me ! " 

She hastened back to him, and at the same instant the house 
was literally crowded suddenly with Federal soldiers, who burst 
open the doors, tore the ornaments from the mantelpiece, broke 
everything which they could lay their hands upon, and exhibit- 
ed violent rage at the escape of the Confederates. 

Those men were in gray. We neglected to state that fact. 
Mountjoy's men were in blue. Thus the opponents had swapped 
xmiforms — the blue being gray, and the gray blue. This fact 
caused the capture of the wounded man's pistol. The young 
lady who had secreted it was kneeling by him, holding his hand 
— or rather he had caught her own, as wounded men will, and 
tightly held it — when a tall and very brutal-looking trooper, 
bending over the prostrate figure, saw the empty holster. 

" Where is his pistol ? " he thundered in a ferocious tone. 

" What pistol ? " said the young lady, firmly, and returning 
the brutal gaze without flinching. 

" His pistol ! — you have hidden it ! Where is it? — give it 
up." 

And he pushed the wounded man with his foot, nearly turn- 
ing him over. 



A FIGHT, A DEAD MAN, AND A COFFIN. 549 

" You'll not get it from me /" exclaimed the young lady, look- 
ing boldly at him, every drop of her woman's blood aroused 
inflamed, and defiant at this cruel act. 

" Give me the pistol ! — or " 

And he drew his own, pointing it at her. 

" I've not got it ! " 

Here the voice of a diminutive negro girl, who had seen the 
'Weapon secreted, and who took the Federal trooper in his gray 
coat for a Confederate, was heard exclaiming — 

" La ! Miss , 'tis in the closet, where you put it ! " 

And in an instant the man had rushed thither and secured it. 

The house was now filled with men, rushing from top to bot- 
tom of it, and breaking to pieces every object upon which they 
could lay their hands. In the house at the time was Captain 

, a wounded officer of artillery, and Lieutenant , a staff 

officer, who had been surprised, and was now secreted in a 
closet. Captain 's room was visited, but he was not molest- 
ed; Lieutenant was so skilfully concealed in his closet, 

against which a bed was thrust, that he was not discovered. 

Smashed crockery, shattered parlour ornaments, followed 
spoons, knives, forks, shawls, blankets, books, daguerreotypes — 
these and many other movables speedily appeared in dwindling 
perspective ; then they vanished. 

Thus theft, insult, and outrage had their veritable carnival — 
but the young ladies did not heed it. They were absorbed by 
the painful spectacle of the wounded gentleman, who, stretched 
upon the floor of the dining-room below, seemed about to draw 
his last breath. lie still held the hand of the young lady who 
had removed his pistol ; to this he clung with an unrelaxing 
clutch ; and the sight of her tearful face, as she knelt beside him, 
seemed to afford him the only satisfaction of which he was capable. 

"Pray for me!" he murmured, clinging to her hand and 
groaning; "pray for me, but pray to yourself! " 

" Oh, yes! " was the reply, and the wounded man sank back, 
moaning, amid the crowd of jeering troopers trampling around 
his " fallen head ! '' 

To these an honourable exception speedily revealed himself. 



550 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

This was a young Federal officer, who came to the side of the 
wounded man, gazed first at him, then at the young lady, and 
then knelt down beside them. 

The glazing eyes of the wounded man looked out from his 
haggard face. 

" Who are you ? " he muttered. 

" I am Lieutenant Cole," was the reply, in a sad and pitying 
voice ; " I am sorry to see you so dangerously wounded." 

" Yes — I am — dying." 

" If you have any affairs to arrange, my poor friend, you had 
better do so," said Lieutenant Cole ; " and I will try and attend 
to them for you." 

" No — the ladies here — will " 

There he paused with a hoarse groan. 

" You are about to die," said the Lieutenant ; " there is no 
hope. I am a Christian, and I will pray for you." 

As he spoke he closed his eyes, and remaining on his knees, 
silent and motionless, was evidently offering up a prayer for the 
dying man, who continued to writhe and toss, in his great 
agony. 

There are men whom we regret, but are proud to have for 
our enemies ; this man was one of them. 

When he rose his expression was grave ; he threw a last glance 
at the sufferer, and then disappeared. His fate was sad, and 
seemed an injustice to so brave a gentleman. On the very next 
day he was captured by a party of Confederates, and while 
being conducted across the Blue Ridge thought that he discover- 
ed an opportunity to escape. Drawing his pistol, which by some 
negligence had been left upon his person, he fired upon his 
guard. The bullet missed its aim — and the guard firing in turn, 
blew out Lieutenant Cole's brains.* 

* A singular coincidence comes to the writer's memory here. The mother of 
the young ladies whose adventures are here related, had on this day gone to attend 
the funeral of young Carlisle Whiting at the " Old Chapel " some miles distant. 
Young Whiting had been killed by a Federal prisoner, whom he was conducting 
south, near Front Royal. The prisoner's pistol had been overlooked ; he drew it 
•suddenly, and fired upon his guard, the bullet inflicting a mortal wound. 



A FlGiir, A DEAD MAN, AND A COFFIN. 551 

At nightfall the Federal troopers had torn the house to pieces, 
taken all which they could not destroy, and had vanished. 
Mountjoy had succeeded in getting off with his men. At six 
o'clock on the next morning poor Braxton breathed his last, still 
holding the hand of the young lady, which seemed to be all by 
which he had clung to life. 

Then a strange and unexpected difficulty arose. It is safe to 
say that the young ladies of New York or Philadelphia, at that 
moment buried in slumbers in their happy homes, surrounded 
by every comfort — it is safe to say that they would have found 
it difficult then — will find it difficult now — to conceive even the 
great dilemma which their young rebel "sisters " were called upon 
to face. The death of a friend would have been sad to the 
young New Yorker or Philadelphian, but at least they would have 
seen his body deposited in a rosewood coffin ; the head would 
have rested on its satin cushion ; lace handkerchiefs raised to 
streaming eyes, in the long procession of brilliant equipages, would 
have been soothing to his friends, as indicating the general grief. 

Here, in that good or bad year 1864, on the border, things 
were diffisrent. There were no equipages — po lace handker- 
chiefs — no satin, and rosewood, and silver — not even a coffin. 
In the midst of their grief for the loss of that brave soldier of 
one of the old Virginia families, their connexions, the young 
Confederate girls were met by this sudden obstacle — by this 
gross, material question, this brutal difficulty — where shall a 
coffin for the dead be procured? There lay the dead body 
pale, cold, terrible — how bury it as Christians bury their dead ? 

They did not cry or complain, but courageously set to work. 
Beside themselves, there were in the house two young cousins 

now, who had hastened to the place, Phil and George , 

at that time mere boys. These went to the mill, past which 
Mountjoy had retreated, and painfully raising upon their shoul- 
ders some broad and heavy planks lying there, bore them up the 
hill to the house. Then, accompanied by the youngest of the 
girls, they went to an old saw-mill near the river, gathered 
together a number of rails from old timber there, returned, and 
began their lugubrious work. 



552 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

The details of their employment were as sombre as the employ- 
ment itself. The dead body was first to be measured ; and this 
was courageously undertaken by the j'-oungest girl, who, placing 
one end of a cord upon the dead man's forehead, measured to 
his feet. . The length was thus determined, and the boys set to 
work, assisted by the girl, sawing, hammering, and nailing 
together the rude box which was to contain all that remained of 
the poor youth. 

The work absorbed them throughout the short November day, 
and only at nightfall was it finished. Then the fear seized upon 
them that they had made the coffin too long ; that the corpse 
would not lie securely in it, and move when carried. A singular 
means of testing the length of the coffin was suddenly hit upon. 
The eldest of the young ladies, who had been watching the corpse 
during the work, now approached, and without shrinking, lay 
at full length in the coffin, which was then found to be amply 
large. Then the body was deposited in it — the pious toil had 
been accomplished. 

"Was not that painfully in contrast with the decent city 
'arrangements," which take from the mourner all the gross 
details — permitting his grief to hover serenely in the region of 
sentiment ? This rude pine coffin differed from the rosewood ; 
the funeral cortege which ere long appeared, differed, too, from 
the long line of shining carriages. 

It consisted of three hundred horsemen, silent, muffled, and 
armed to the teeth, for the enemy were close by in heavy force. 
They appeared, without notice, about three hours past midnight, 
and at the head of them, we believe, was Mountjoy. 

The body, still in its rude coffin, was lifted into a vehicle; 
some hasty words were exchanged with the young ladies, for a 
large force of the enemy was near Millwood within sight, a 
mile or two across the fields ; then the shadowy procession of 
horsemen moved ; their measured hoof-strokes resounded, gra- 
dually dying away ; the corpse was borne through the river, 
ascended the mountain— and at sunrise the dead man was sleep- 
ing in the soil of Fauquier. 



IV. 

GENERAL PEGRAM ON THE NIGHT BEFORE HIS 

DEATH. 



I. 

The writer's object in the present paper is to chronicle the 
events of a clay in the pine-woods of Dinwiddle in 1865, and 
to mention a circumstance which impressed him forcibly at the 
time ; nearly convincing him of the truth of " presentiments," 
and warnings of approaching death. 

It was early in February of the year 1865, and General 
Grant had for some time been straining every nerve to force 
his way to the Southside railroad — when General Lee would 
be cut off from his base of supplies, and compelled to retreat 
or surrender his army. Grant had exhibited a persistence 
which amounted to genius ; and the Federal lines had been 
pushed from the Jerusalem to the Weldon road, from the 
"Weldon to the Vaughan and Squirrel Level roads, and thence 
still westward beyond Hatcher's Run, toward the White Oak 
road, running through the now well-known locality of Five 
Forks. On the western bank of the run, near Burgess's Mill, 
General Lee's extreme right confronted the enemy, barring his 
further advance. 

The Confederate right was almost unprotected by cavalry. 
This unfortunate circumstance arose from the fact that after 
the destruction of the AVeldon Railroad as far south as Hicks- 
ford, fifty miles from Petersburg, the cavalry was obliged to 
repair to that distant point for forage. Never was anything 
more unfortunate ; but it was one of those misfortunes which 



0:4 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

no generalship could prevent. By sheer force of numbers, 
General Grant had effected the destruction of the road ; the 
Sonthsile road could not supply forage; the cavalry horses 
must go to Hicksford or starve. Such was the explanation of 
the fact tliat General Lee's right was guarded only by a small 
regiment or two of horse, on picket. 

Such was the " situation." Grant on the banks of Hatcher's 
Run ; tlie Rowanty almost unguarded ; the path open for cav- 
alry to the Southside road ; Five Forks, and the retreat of 
the Confederate army, looming in the distance. The passionate 
struggle which had for four years drawn to the great arena the 
eyes of all the world was about to be decided amid the sombre 
pines of Dinwiddle. 

A few scenes in these pine woods at the crisis referred to 
may interest the reader. The narrative will probably convey 
a better idea of the " times as they were " than a more am- 
bitious record — the familiar view being generally the best. 
"While the infantry lines were closing in the death-grapple in 
front of Petersburg, the blue and gray horsemen wei*e hunting 
each other in the Dinwiddle forests, and the ganie was not un- 
exciting. The " events of a day " are here rapidly traced, just 
as they appeared to the writer. No tremendous exploits will 
be narrated or " thrilling adventures " recorded ; but porliaps 
some of the actual colouring of the great war-canvas will be 
caught in the hasty memoir. 

Returning from a tour of inspection at Hicksford, night sur- 
prised me not far from Nottoway river ; and having crossed 
that turbulent stream at risk of drowning my horse, I spent the 

night at the hospitable mansion of Mr. D , not far from 

Halifax bridge, on the Rowanty. The Federal forces were just 
beyond the stream, and no Confederate picket between ; but 
the night passed undisturbed even by the prowling of a single 
Federal scout; and on the next morning the line of march was 
resumed for Petersburg by way of Malone's. 

Two hundred yards to the left of Halifax bridge there sud- 
denly appeared a number of " scattered " cavalry-men — ^gray — 
approaching at full gallop, evidently stampeded. 



GENEliAL TEGRAM. 555 

" What is the matter ? " 

"The Yankees have crossed with two regiments at Ma- 
h.Mie's ! " from the hurrying horseman. 

" Did you see them ? " 

" Yes, sir." 

" Wliere is your regiment? " 

" Back to Kirby's, and everything is ordered to Dinwiddie 
Court-IIouse ! " 

This report was soon confirmed by the rest, and " full particu- 
lars," as the journals say, were given. A strong force of Fede- 
ral cavalry had suddenly attacked the small regiment on picket 
at Malone's, and dispersed it, nearly capturing Gen. William 
H. F. Lee, who chanced to be there inspecting his lines. This 
force had steadily pressed on, the Confederates retiring ; was 
now at Kirby's, and soon would be at Dinwiddie Court-House. 

This was not eminently agreeable to myself personally. 
"Kirby's " was on the only road to Petersburg, except by way 
of Malone's — for the time rendered impracticable — and to 
reach my journey's end it seemed necessarj'^ to make tlie cir- 
cuit by Dinwiddie Court-House. To attempt the road by Kir- 
by's was certain capture ; and in an undoubted bad humour the 
"solitary horseman," as Mr. James would say, turned to the 
left, crossed Stony Creek, struck into the " Flat Foot Koad," 
and in due time drew near Honey's bridge, on the upper watere 
of the stream, near Dinwiddie, AVithin a quarter of a mile of 
the stream a soldier made his appearance, coming to meet me, 
and this individual informed me with the politest possible salute 
that I had better " look out, as the Yankees were at the bridge." 

" At the bridge ! Where ? " 

" At Rouey's bridge, just in front, sir." 

This was the " unkindest cut of all." I had made a weari- 
some circuit, reached a supposed place of crossing — and here 
were my blue friends again like a lion in the path, rendering 
it necessary to strike still higher up the stream. At this rate 
it seemed probable that I would be forced to return to Peters- 
burg by way of Lynchburg and Richmond ! Malone's — Kir- 
by's — Dinwiddie — the enemy were everywhere. 



556 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

A good military rule, however, is to " believe nothing you 
hear, and only half you see." The report that Federal cavalry 
was at the bridge in front was probable, but not certain. They 
might be Confederates ; and taking the soldier with me, I pro- 
ceeded to reconnoitre. As we reached the vicinity, the woods 
were seen to be full of dismounted cavalry, but whether these 
were Federal or Confederate, it was impossible to say. Draw- 
ing nearer, the men seemed to be the latter ; nearer still, and 
the surmise was confirmed. Regulation gray had long disap- 
peared — our cavalry were nondescript in costume — but the 
sharpshooters in front were not in blue. 

One came out to meet me, carbine ready — a quite useless 
precaution it seemed — and the following dialogue ensued : 

"What command? " I asked. 

"General Lee's." 

"Where are the Yankees?" 

" Just over the bridge." 

Then the road by Dinwiddle Court-House was blockaded ! 
Meditating with melancholy resignation on this fact, I uncon- 
sciously turned my horse's head from the bridge, when my 
friend with the carbine made a quick step toward me, and catch- 
ing his eye, I found the expression of that member doubtful, 
puzzled, but not friendly. In fact the carbineer had his weapon 
cocked, and was evidently ready to bestow its contents on me 
if I moved a step. 

Then, for the first time, the truth flashed on me. I was wear- 
ing a blue "Yankee overcoat" concealing ray Confederate uni- 
form ; my hat was nondescript ; there was absolutely nothing 
to show that I was not some adventurous Federal officer who 
had crossed the stream below, come up the Flat Foot road in 
rear of the Confederates to reconnoitre, and was about to return 
with the information acquired. To prevent this, my friend 
with the carbine evidently intended to send a bullet after me 
as soon as I moved. 

This comic situation was a safety valve for all ill-humour, 
and one of the men havmg run for his Lieutenant, I gave that 
officer my name and rank — which aimouncement was greeted, 

35 



GENERAL PEGRAM. 557 

however, with a similar glance of doubt. A few words dissi- 
pated this. ^ 

" Where is General Lee, Lieutenant ? " 

"Just over the hill." 

« I will go there." 

And accompanied bj the young officer, I found General W. 
II. F. Lee, who had been compelled with his one or two hun- 
dred men — the whole force of the regiment — to retire behind 
the stream. His sharpshooters were now posted to rake the 
bridge if the enemy appeared, and a mounted party had been 
sent toward Dinwiddle Court-House. 

After a few moments' conversation with General Lee — that 
brave and courteous gentleman, whom I am glad to call my 
friend — I found that the reports of the cavalry-men were cor- 
rect. The enemy's horse, in strong force, had driven him back 
to Dinwiddle, and were then at the Court-House. General Lee 
informed me, laughing, that in the charge he had been very 
nearly stampeded for the first time in his life, his horse, "Fitz 
Lee," an unruly animal of great power, having whirled round 
at the first volley from the enemy, and nearly cafried his rider 
off the field! In great disgust at this unmilitary conduct, the 
General had mounted a more manageable courser. 

Whilst the General was narrating these particulars, two young 
officers of his staff. Captains Lee and Dandridge, came in, after 
a hot chase. The former had been entirely surrounded, but 
kept the woods, taking advantage of every opening ; and finally 
perceiving an interval between the rear of one Federal cavalry 
regiment and the head of column of another, he had put spurs 
to his horse, charged the opening, and jumped through. The 
latter officer was also "cut off," and manojuvred in a similar 
manner, when, as he turned a bend m the bridle-path which 
he was following, he came suddenly upon a body of foot-sol- 
diers clad in darJc hlue, with burnished guns at the right shoul- 
der shift, steadily advancing southward. This was enormously 
puzzling! Why should a Federal infantry battalion be going 
south at that moment? And then there was something singu- 
lar in the uniform and equipments of the men — very unlike Fed- 



558 -WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

erals. Their coats were of navy blue, of unfamiliar cut ; and 
they had cutlasses apparently in their belts. 

Captain Dandridge had gazed at this party with astonish- 
ment for some moments, when all at once he was perceived, 
and an pfEcer, apparently, beckoned to him. To go or not to 
go — that was the question ; but he finally decided to approach, 
and did so. Then the mystery was quickly solved. The men 
in blue were a battalion of Confederate marines, and they 
were proceeding toward the Nottoway river to make a circuit, 
approach James river far below City Point, board and seize 
upon a Federal " ram," and then steam up the James, and 
destroy Grant's fleet of transports at City Point. This excel- 
lent scheme was thoroughly arranged ; the torpedoes to be 
used were hidden in the woods of Nottoway ready for the 
party, when a deserter went over and informed the enemy, in 
consequence of which the expedition was abandoned. 

We have seen how, by a singular chance, the battalion set 
out on its march, armed and prepared, the very day that the 
enemy's cavalry crossed the Powanty, More singular still, 
they passed along in rear of the Federal cavalry without dis- 
covering them or being discovered. This, all things considered, 
was one of the most curious events of the war ; as the scheme 
proposed for the destruction of the Federal transports was one 
of the boldest. 

General "W. 11, F, Lee waited at Poney's bridge for some 
time, expecting an advance of the enemy's cavalry; but none 
coming, he sounded to horse, placed himself at the head of his 
small column of about eighty or a hundred men, and pushed 
out toward Dinwiddle Court-House to attack the raiders. Be- 
fore he had advanced far, intelligence came that the enemy had 
evacuated the Court-House, and were falling back toward Cattail 
Creek, in the vicinity of which their infantry was stationed. 
General Lee immediately followed, came up with their rear 
at Cattail, and here a brief skirmish took place, just as night 
descended. The lines of Federal infjintry which had advanced 
that day were discovered ; and no further advance in that direc- 
tion was attempted, the cavalry returning toward Dinwiddle. 



GENERAL PEGRAM. 559 

An odd incident marked this rapid ride after the retiring 
Federal cavahy. In the middle of the road we found two 
Confederate cavalry-men with a prisoner whom they had 
caught, and the worthy in question attracted our attention. He 
was clad in semi-military costume ; a blue-gray overcoat of 
fine cloth, with a long cavalry cape to it, decorated with a 
dazzling row of buttons; an excellent new hat; and rode a 
superb horse, which would have brought live or six thousand 
dollars in Confederate money. 

As we came up — Captains Robert Lee, Philip Dandridge, 
and myself — this gentleman complained in animated terms of 
the immorality involved in capturing "a non-combatant;" he 
was not a soldier, only the " correspondent of the New York 
Herald^'' and he hoped that he would immediately be released. 
This train of reasoning, impressed upon his listeners in a most 
voluble and eloquent voice, accompanied by animated gestures, 
did not seem to convince anybody ; and the men were directed 
to take the prisoner back to Dinwiddle Court-House, and as he 
was evidently a man of decision and resources, " shoot him if 
he tried to escape, making no attempt to recapture him." 

He was accordingly started back, under convoy of the two 
cavalry-men, and had proceeded about three *or four hundred 
yards, when our attention was attracted to him again by an 
outcry in that direction. Turning round, we saw that some- 
thing curious was going on, and hastily spurred to the scene. 
Lo ! as we approached, there was the prisoner scudding across 
the field, his cape floating in the wind, liis horse at a full run, 
pursued by carbine-balls ! None struck him, however ; and in 
a moment he had disappeared in the belt of woods near at 
hand, in M'hich lay jy(?rcZ?^« the line of Federal infantry. 

A few words from the chop-fallen cavalry-men and an old 
negro, at a small house near by, explained everything. Three 
or four Federal cavalry-men had been left behind by their com- 
rades on the retreat, and had stopped at the house to ask the 
way to their lines. While thus employed, the prisoner and his 
escort came by ; the Federal cavalry-men rushed forth to the 
rescue, " put their pistols " on the unsuspecting escort, and 



560 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

DOW both rescuei-8 and rescued were safe within their own 
lines ! 

The whole affair was truly laughable, and the gallant " cor- 
respondent" deserved his good fortune, since he made a true 
John Gilpin run for liberty. I did not grudge him the enjoy- 
ment thereof at all, but must confess to a keen feeling of regret 
at the loss of his horse. lie appeared to be an excellent 
animal ; and to " covet your neighbour's horse," if he chanced 
to be desirable, was in those days the besetting sin of every 
true cavalry-man ! 



11. 

At nightfall General Lee retired from Cattail Creek toward 
Dinwiddle Court-House, the enemy having returned within 
their lines ; and I determined to continue my way to Peters- 
burg, where duty called me. 

There was reason to doubt, however, the practicability of 
this journey — at least over the regular " Boydton road." 
Simultaneous with the advance of the Federal cavalry, their 
infantry had moved toward the Southside road ; a severe 
engagement had taken place on the Quaker road ; and the 
Federal infantry was known to have remained in its position, 
its left probably across, or resting upon the Boydton road. 
Now, as above intimated, it was necessary to follow this Boydton 
road to reach Petersburg that night. I determined to try, and 
80 informed General Lee, who thereupon requested me to carry 
a dispatch which he had just written, to General Gordon, com- 
manding the right of the army near Burgess', with an oral 
message, information, etc., in reference to the cavalry move- 
ment. 

A small detachment of cavalry, belonging to Colonel Phil- 
lips' command, then on the right of the army, was placed at 
my orders ; and setting out about night, we soon debouched 
upon the Boydton road, where at every step traces of the 
Federal forces were met with — the raiders having harried the 



GENERAL PEGRAM. 561 

whole region — and some prisoners captured. The vicinity of 
the bridge over Gravelly Ran was thus reached, and beyond 
the bridge glimmered the tires of a picket. 

The question of greatest interest was whether the picket was 
Federal or Confederate. The enemy's left was certainly near 
this point, but so was our right. Tlie plain method of deciding 
was to try, and this was done — the cavalry detachment halting 
a hundred yards off. Riding on the bridge, I found the plank- 
ing torn up, and in the centre a " yawning gulf;" at the same 
moment a voice came from beyond, ordering " halt ! " The 
following dialogue then took place: 

" Well, I have halted." 

" Who are you ? " 

" Friends." 

" Advance one." 

" Impossible — the bridge is torn up." 

" What command do you belong to ? " 

" What do you belong to ? " 

" I ask who you are ! " 

" Do you belong to Colonel Phillips' regiment ? " 

" No ! " 

This reply was discouraging. Colonel Phillips held the 
extreme right ; this should be his picket ; as it was not^ the 
probabilities appeared to be in favour of the Federal picket 
view. Under the circumstances, the next course seemed to be 
a rapid " about face," the use of the spur, and a quick retreat, 
taking the chances of a bullet. The sudden click of a trigger 
interrupted t-hese reflections, and my friend in the dark said 
briefly : 

"I asked what command you belonged to ! " 

Something in the tone of the voice struck me as Southern, 
and I replied : 

" Well, I don't believe you are a Yankee ; I belong to Gen- 
eral Lee's army." 

" All right ; so do we," was the answer. " You can come 
over at the ford yonder." 

" What brigade is yours ? " 
36 



562 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

"General Pegram's." 

This reply ended all doubt. Pegram I knew was on Gor- 
don's extreme right. Not finding General Gordon, 1 had been 
requested bj General Lee to communicate with Pegram. 

His headquarters were near the junction of the Boydton and 
Quaker roads ; and having turned over the cavalry detachment 
to Colonel Phillips, I entered the old wooden building and 
found General John Pegram. 

This gallant young officer had been my school-fellow and 
intimate friend in boyhood; and I had seen him every day 
almost until his departure for West Point. After graduating 
there he had entered the cavalry, served on the prairies, and 
m 1861 returned to offer his sword to Virginia, where he was 
received in a manner highly flattering, and placed in command 
of the forces near Rich Mountain. The unfortunate result of 
that campaign is known, and the proud and sensitive spirit of 
the young soldier was deeply wounded. In spite of the assu- 
rances of brave and skilful soldiers that the issue there was 
unavoidable, considering the great force brought against him, 
he persisted in brooding over it. "It would always be known 
as ' Pegram's surrender,' " he said. It was soon forgotten, how- 
ever ; greater events and greater disasters threw it in the back- 
ground, and the young soldier fought his way to high repute in 
the Southern army. On the night when I met him, in Febru- 
ary, 1865, he was commanding the advance brigade of General 
Lee's right wing, and had held his ground all day against the 
severest assaults of the enemy. 

The cordial greeting of two friends, after long separation, 
over. General Pegram mounted his horse to ride with me to 
General Gordon's, beyond Burgess' mill, and on the way we 
dropped military affairs entirely, to revert to scenes which had 
taken place twenty years before, and speak of the " old fami- 
liar faces " and things long previous to the war. If it were 
necessary I could recall the entire convei'sation — the very 
words uttered by my companion — for the sad event of the 
next day engraved the whole upon my memory. In the voice 
of the speaker there was a peculiar sadness, a species of melan- 



GENERAL PEGRAM. 563 

cliolj depression, wliicli it was impossible not to observe. 
Something seemed to weigh upon his mind, and the handsome 
features of the young soldier (he was only about thirty), with 
the clear dark eye, the gallant moustache, and the broad, fine 
brow, were overshadowed by a heavy cloud. This obvious 
depression, however, did not render him cold or distrait — 
rather the contrary. He spoke of old friends and comrades 
with the greatest affection and kindness ; referred with some- 
thing very like womanly tenderness to a dear younger brother 
of his listener, dead many years before ; and the pleasure 
which he derived from this return to the careless past was 
unmistakable. But throughout all was that undertone of sad- 
ness which I remembered afterwards, and could not forbear 
regarding as the evidence of some mysterious presentiment. 

This did not change at all when, after a ride of two or three 
miles we reached General Gordon's, and were shown to the 
General's chamber. General G.'s cheery voice, as he smoked his 
cigar and discussed the events of the day, did not make my 
companion smile. 

" Do you expect a renewal of the attack to-morrow, Gen- 
eral ? " I asked. 

" Not on this side of the run, but I think it probable they 
will make a heavy attack on General Pegram in the morning." 

The person thus alluded to was carefully examining a topo- 
graphical map at the moment ; and his countenance and atti- 
tude exhibited unmistakable depression and languor. When 
we rose to go, the expression had not changed. As we shook 
hands, he addressed me by the nanie which he had used when 
we were scliool-fellows together, and said : " Come and see me 
whenever you can." And that pressure of the kind, brave 
hand, that utterance of the good friendly voice, was the last 
for me. On the next day the attack anticipated by General 
Gordon took place, and General Pegram was killed while gal- 
lantly leading his men. 

Such was the soldierly ending of this brave young Virgi- 
nian. He had been married only a few weeks to a young lady 
of rare beauty, and life seemed to open for him all flowers and 



561'^ WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

sunshine ; but the thunderbolt had struck him ; his brave 
blood went to swell that great torrent poured out bj the gal- 
lantest souls of the South. 

This hasty sketch — beginning with jests, and ending in some- 
thing like tears — has aimed, in part, to record that presentiment 
which the young soldier seemed to have of his approaching 
fate. Wholly incredulous as the writer is of such warnings, 
it is impossible for him to banish from his mind the fancy that 
something conveyed to the young soldier a premonition of the 
coming event. But lie did his duty all the same, dying in 
harness like a good soldier of the South. 

* The lapse of twenty pages after 564 is accounted for by omitting to number 
tlie illustrations in their order. See list of illustrations. 



^.^^111 




V. 

LEE'S LAST BAHLES. 



I. 

General Lee's retreat from Petersburg will rank among the 
most remarkable events of history. As every circumstance 
connected with it will prove interesting hereafter, when the 
full history of this period comes to be written, 1 propose to 
record some particulars which came under my observation ; 
and especially to describe the bearing of the illustrious Com- 
mander-in-Chief of the Confederate forces while passing through 
this tremendous ordeal. 

An adequate record of this brief and fiery drama — played 
from the first to the last scene in a few April days — would 
involve the question of General Lee's soldiership. This ques- 
tion I have neither time nor space to discuss ; but I am much 
mistaken if a simple statement M-ill not set at rest for ever 
those imputations which have been cast, since the surrender, 
upon Lee's military judgment, by ignorant or stupid persons 
throughout the coantry. The facts ought to be placed on 
record. If General Lee continued, of his own choice, to occupy 
a position at Petersburg from which, as events soon showed, 
he could not extricate his army, it will go far to rob him of 
that renown which he had previously won ; and if General 
Grant out-manoeuvred and caught his great adversary by simple 
superiority of soldiership, he is the greater general of the two. 
The truth of the whole matter is that Lee was not surprised ; 
that he foresaw clearly what was coming; and acted from 



586 WEAEING OF THE GRAY. 

first to last under orders against which his military judgment 
revolted. 

Orders were given by General Lee for the evacuation of 
Petersburg, and, consequently, of the State of Virginia, at 
least six weeks before General Grant broke through the Con- 
federate h'nes. The military necessity for this movement was 
perfectly plain to all well-informed and intelligent persons, in 
the army and out of it. It was only the ignorant or the hope- 
lessly stupid who cherished the hallucination that Lee could 
continue to hold his works around Petersburg against Grant's 
enormous force. Nevertheless there were a plenty who did 
think so, and who looked upon things there as a sort of 
" permanent arrangement." Lee, in the estimation of these 
persons, was the spoiled child of good fortune, greater than 
fate, and the Army of Northern Virginia could not be whipped. 
The Southern lines were to be held en permanence, and Grant 
was to " keep pegging away " until the crack of doom. Such 
was the fond delusion of all the " outside " class ; those who 
were accurately informed, and took tlie " inside " view, knew 
better ; and especially did General Lee know that unless he 
was speedily reinforced, he could not continue to hold his 
lines against the large and steady reinforcements sent to 
General Grant. " More men ; give me more men ! " was the 
burden of his despatches to the government. He had nearly 
fifty miles of earthworks to defend against three or four times 
his own numbers ; and a child miglit have understood that if 
Grant continued to receive heavy reinforcements, and Lee 
none, while liis army continued to diminish from casualties, 
the time would soon come when retreat or surrender would be 
the only alternatives. The reinforcements did not come, 
however. The Army of Northern Virginia went on dwindling, 
and Grant continued to increase his strength, until at the end 
of winter the result of the coming campaign no longer admitted 
of a doubt. The crisis had evidently come, and it was 
perfectly plain that Lee must evacuate Virginia, All his 
prominent Generals shared his views. One of them said : " If 
Grant once breaks through our line?, we might as well go 



lee's last battles. 587 

back to Father Abraham, and say, ' Father, we have sinned.' " 
If anything was plain it was this : that if tlie immense line of 
Lee's works was broken anywhere, he was lost. 

It is certainly nothing very remarkable that under these cir- 
cumstances General Lee should make an attempt to save his 
army — the only hope of the Confederacy. There was only one 
way to do it, and the opportunity of embracing that sole means 
was rapidly slipping away. General Lee must move, if he 
moved at all, on the line of the Southside Railroad toward 
Danville, and he must move at once ; for General Grant, who 
knew perfectly well the necessities of his adversary, was pour- 
ing heavy columns toward Hatcher's Run, to intercept him if he 
made the attempt. The Federal army was kept ready day 
and night, with rations cooked and in haversacks, for instant 
pursuit ; and each of the great opponents understood completely 
his adversary's design. General Grant knew that General Lee 
ought to retreat, and he had learned the important maxim that 
it is always best to give your enemy credit for intending to do 
what he ought to do. If Lee moved promptly toward Danville, 
every effort would be made to come up with and destroy him ; 
if he did not retreat, time would be allowed the Federal army 
to gradually fight its way to the Southside road. Once lodged 
upon that great artery of the Southern army, Grant had check- 
mated his opponent. 

Upon this obvious view of the situation, General Lee, in 
February, issued orders for the removal of all the stores of the 
army to Amelia Court-House, on the road to Danville. A 
movement of this sort is, of course, impossible of concealment, 
and the whole army soon knew that something was " in the 
wind." Government cotton and tobacco was hauled away from 
Petersburg ; hundreds of the inhabitants left the place ; all the 
surplus artillery was sent to Amelia Court-House, and even the 
reserve ordnance train of the army was ordered to the same 
point. Then suddenl}', in the midst of all, the movement 
stopped. Tlie authorities at Richmond had said, " Hold your 
position," Lee countermanded his orders and awaited his fate. 

I say awaited his fate, because I am perfectly well convinced 



588 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

that from that moment he regarded the event as a mere question 
of time. No reinforcements reached him, while Grant grew 
stronger every day by reinforcements from Washington and 
Sherman's army — two corps from the latter — and soon he had 
at his command Sheridan's excellent force of 12,000 or 15,000 
cavalry. He was pushing heavy colunms, one after another, 
toward the Southside road, and at any moment a general attack 
might be expected all along the lines, while the Uite of the 
Federal force was thrown against Lee's right. Such an assault, 
in his enfeebled condition, was more than General Leo could 
sustain, unless he stripped his works elsewhere of all their 
defenders; but a brave effort was made to prepare for the com- 
ing storm, and Lee evidently determined to stand at bay and 
fight to the last. The expected attack soon came. Grant 
rapidly concentrated his army (amounting, General Meade 
stated at Appomattox Court-IIouse, to about 140,000 men) on 
Lee's right, near Burgess' Mill ; his most efficient corps of in- 
fantry and cavalry were thrown forward, and a desperate attack 
was made upon the Confederate works on the White-oak road. 
A bloody repulse awaited the first assault, but the second was 
successful. At the same time the lines near Petersburg were 
broken by a great force, and the afiair was decided. The Con- 
federate army was cut in two ; the enemy held the Southside 
Railroad, intercepting the line of retreat ; and what Lee's clear 
military judgment had foreseen had come to pass. Between 
his 40,000 men and Danville were the 140,000 men of Grant. 



11. 

I should think it impossible even for his worst enemy to 
regard the situation of this truly great man at the moment in 
question without a certain sympathy and respect. He was not 
Commander-in-Chief only, but the whole Southern Confederacy 
himself — carrying upon his shoulders the heavy weight of the 
public care. Every confidence was felt in the patriotism and 
sincere devotion of President Davis to the Southern cause — but 



lee's last battles. 589 

there was a very general distrust of his judgment, and his 
administration had not made him popular. Lee, on the contra- 
ry, was the idol almost of the people ; and it was to him that the 
South looked in this dark hour, calling on him for deliverance. 

Up to this moment he had been in a condition to meet his 
great responsibility. In a campaign of unexampled fury, drag- 
ging its bloody stops from the Rappahannock to the Appo- 
mattox, he had held his lines against almost overwhelming 
assaults, foiling an adversary of acknowledged genius, com- 
manding a superb army. Against this army, constantly rein- 
forced, he had continued to hold the works around Petersburg, 
and protect the capital ; and to him, amid the gloom and depres- 
sion, all had looked as to their sole hope. There was no pos- 
sibility of General Lee himself escaping a knowledge of this 
fact. It was in the faces and the words of men ; in the columns 
of the newspapers ; in the very air that was breathed. Good 
men wrote to him not to expose himself, for if he fell all was 
over. In brief words, the whole country agreed that in this man 
and his army lay the only hope of the Southern Confederacy. 

If the reader realizes what I have thus tried to express, he 
ma}'' form some idea of the crushing ordeal through which 
General Lee was, on the 2d of April, called upon to pass. 

The brief particulars about to be set down may furnish the 
candid historian of the future with material to form an unbiassed 
judgment of General Lee and his retreat. I am mistaken if 
the narrative, however brief and incomplete, does not show the 
great proportions and noble character of the individual — his 
constancy under heavy trials, and his majestic equanimity in 
face of a misfortune the most cruel, perhaps, which a soldier 
can be called on to bear. 

Soon after sunrise on the 2d of April the Federal columns, 
i)i heavy mass, advanced from the outer line of works, which 
they had carried at daybreak, to attack General Lee in his 
inner intrenclinients near Petersburg. "When the present writ- 
er reached the vicinity of army headquarters, on the Cox road, 
west of the city, a Federal column was rapidly advancing to 
charge a battery posted in the open field to the right of the 



590 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

house, and at that time firing rapidly. General Lee was in 
the lawn in front of his Headquarters, looking through his 
glasses at the column as it moved at a double quick across the 
fields ; and knowing the terrible significance of the advantage 
which the Federal troops had gained, I looked at the General 
to ascertain, if possible, what he thought of it. He never ap- 
peared more calm ; and if the affair had been a review, he 
could not have exhibited less emotion of any description. In 
full uniform, with his gold-hilted sword, and perfectly quiet 
look, he appeared to be witnessing, with simple curiosity, some 
military parade. But this "dress" costume was assumed, it is 
said, with another view. He had dressed himself that morn- 
ing, I afterwards heard, with scrupulous care, and buckled on 
his finest sword, declaring that if he was captured he would be 
taken in full harness. 

The movement of the Federal column became more rapid, 
and the battery was soon charged ; but it succeeded in gallop- 
ing off under a heavy fire of musketry. The column then 
pressed on, and the Federal artillery opened a heavy fire on 
the hill, before which the Southern guns — there was no infantry 
— withdrew. General Lee retired slowly with his artillery, rid- 
ing his well-known iron gray ; and one person, at least, in the 
company forgot the shell and sharpshooters, looking at the su- 
perb old cavalier, erect as an arrow, and as calm as a May 
morning. When he said to an ofiicer near, " This is a bad busi- 
ness. Colonel," there was no excitement in liis voice, or indeed 
any change whatsoever in its grave and courteous tones. A 
slight flush came to his face, however, a moment afterwards. 
A shell from the Federal batteries, fired at the group, burst 
almost upon him, killing a horse near by, and cutting bridle- 
reins. This brouglit a decided expression of "fight" to the 
old soldier's face, and he probably felt as he did in Culpeper 
when the disaster of Rappahannock bridge occurred — when he 
muttered, General Stuart told me, " I should now like to go into 
a charge ! " 

These details may appear trivial. But the demeanour of 
public men on great occasions is legitimate, and not uninter- 



lee's last BATTTiES, 591 

esting matter for history. General Lee's personal bearing 
upon this critical occasion, when he saw himself about to be 
subjected to the greatest humiliation to the pride of a soldier — 
capture — was admirably noble and serene. It was impossible 
not to be struck with the grandeur of his appearance — no other 
phrase describes it : or to refrain from admiring the princely 
air with which the old cavalry officer sat his horse. With his 
calm and thoughtful eye, and perfect repose of manner visible 
in spite of the restive movements of his horse, frightened by 
the firing, it was hard to believe that he saw there was no hope, 
— and for himself, would have cared little if one of the bullets 
singing around had found its mark in his breast. 



in. 

In ten minutes the Federal troops had formed line of battle 
in front of the Headquarters, and a thin line of Confederate 
infantry manned the badly-constructed works on the Cox road. 
If the Federal line of battle — now visible in huofe mass — had 
advanced at once, they would have found opposed to them only 
two small brigades, which would not have been a good mouth- 
ful. The amusing thing was to hear the " ragged rebels " — 
and they were Very ragged — laughing as they looked at the 
heavy line apparently about to charge them, and crying : "Let 

'em come on ! we'll give 'em ! " Gordon was meanwhile 

thundering on the left of Petersburg, and holding his lines with 
difficulty, and at night one point at least was gained. The 
surrender would not take place there. Where it would be was 
not yet decided. 

Before morning the army had been moved to the northern 
bank of the Appomattox ; the glare and roar of the blown-up 
magazines succeeded ; and accompanied by the unwieldy trains, 
loaded with the miserable rubbish of winter quarters, the 
troops commenced their march up the Appomattox, toward the 
upper bridges. 

General Lee was on his gray horse, leading his army in per- 



592 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

son ; there were no longer any lines to defend, any earthworks 
to hold ; the army was afloat, and instead of being depressed, 
they seemed in excellent spirits. But the drama had only com- 
menced. 

The great game of chess between Grant and Lee commenced 
on the morning of the 3d of April ; the one aiming if possible 
to extricate his army, the other to cut oflT and capture, or de- 
stroy it. 

The relative numbers of the opposing forces can only be 
stated in round numbers. I understood afterwards that General 
Meade stated the Federal force to amount to about one hundred 
and forty thousand men. That of General Lee did not exceed, 
if it reached, forty thousand. So great had been the drain 
upon this historic army from the casualties of the past year, 
from absence with and without leave, and other causes, that 
— deprived of ail reinforcements — it was now weaker than it 
had probably ever been before. General Meade, it is said, ex- 
pressed extreme astonishment to General Lee when informed 
of his small numbers, declaring that if General Grant had sus- 
pected this weakness, he would have long before broken through 
the Confederate lines. The statement was natural, and Gene- 
ral Meade doubtless believed in the ability of the Federal array 
to have done so ; but it is certain that General Grant made per- 
sistent and desperate attempts to accomplish this very object, 
in which his adversary, by rapid movements of his small force 
from point to point, and obstinate fighting, had invariably 
foiled him. 

To return to the retreat. The Southern army had been so 
long cooped up in its hovels and casemates — moving only by 
stealth along " covered-ways " — that any movement anywhere 
was a relief. Li addition to this, the troops had not yet had 
time to reflect. The sensation of being driven from their earth- 
works — now like home to them — was stunning ; and the men 
did not at once realize the tremendous change which had all at 
once taken place in the aspect of affairs. No man seemed yet 
to have persuaded himself of the fact that " General Lee's 
Army," which only yesterday had held the long lines, in defi- 



lee's last battles. 593 

ance of all comers, was to-day in full retreat, and bent first of 
all upon esca/pitig from the enemy they had so often defeated. 

Gradually, however, the unhappy condition of affairs began 
to dawn upon the troops ; and all at once they looked the ter- 
rible fact in the face. General Lee was retreating from Vir- 
ginia — most depressing of events ! — and it was even a matter 
of very extreme doubt whether he could accomplish even that 
mucJi. No troops were ever better informed upon military 
affairs than those of the South ; and the private soldier dis- 
cussed the chances with a topographical knowledge which could 
not have been surpassed by a general officer with a map before 
him. I heard one brave tatterdemalion, evidently from the 
backwoods, say, " Grant is trying to cut off old Uncle Robert 
at Burkesville Junction ;" and another replied, " Grant can 
get there first." There, in a few words, was the essence of the 
"situation." 

General Grant held theSouthside Railroad, and was pouring 
forward troops under Sheridan toward the Danville Railroad, 
to which he had a straight cut without a particle of obstruction, 
except a small force of cavalry — less than two thousand effective 
men — under General Fitz Lee. General Lee, on the contrary, 
was moving by a circuitous route on the north bank of the Ap- 
pomattox, encumbered by a huge wagon-train, and having in 
front of him a swollen river, which proved a terrible delay to 
him at the moment when every instant counted. So great were 
the obstacles, that General Grant could have intercepted the 
Southern column, had he made extraordinary exertions, even at 
Amelia Court-House. General Lee did not succeed in reach- 
ing that point until Wednesday, the 5th — the bridges over the 
Appomattox being swept away or rendered useless by the 
freshet which had covered the low grounds and prevented 
access to them. The troops finally crossed on pontoons at 
two or three places; and, although suffering seriously from 
want of rations, pushed forward in good spirits to Amelia Court- 
House. 

Up to this time there had been very few stragglers, the Vir- 
ginia troops turning their backs upon their homes without 



59-i WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

complaint, and satisfied to follow " Old Uncle Robert " 
wherever he led them. The statement that desertions of Vir- 
ginians had taken place is untrue. They marched with their 
brethren from the Gulf States cheerfully ; and it was only 
afterward, when broken down by starvation, that they dropped 
out of the ranks. That some, seeing the sure fate before them 
— surrender, and, as they supposed, long incarceration in a 
I^orthern prison — left their ranks during the last hours of the 
retreat, is also true ; but, a few hours after they thus left their 
colours, it was the general oflicers who looked out for avenues 
of exit through the Federal cordon closing around, to avoid 
the inevitable surrender ; and who said to their men, " Save 
yourselves in any way you can," 

The scene at Amelia Court-House on "Wednesday was a 
curious one. The huge army trains were encamped in the 
suburbs of the pretty little village, and the travel-woi-n troops 
bivouacked in the fields. They were still in good spirits, and 
plainly had an abiding confidence in their great commander. 
The brigades, though thinned by their heavy losses at Peters- 
burg, still presented a defiant front ; and the long lines of vete- 
rans with bristling bayonets, led by Longstreet, Gordon, and 
Mahone, advanced as proudly as they had done in the hard 
conflicts of the past. The troops were still in excellent morale^ 
and had never been readier for desperate fighting than at that 
moment. Men and officers were tired and hungry, but laugh- 
ing; and nowhere could be seen a particle of gloom, or shrink- 
ing, or ill-humour — sure symptoms in the human animal of a 
want of " heart of hope." I will add that I saw little of it to 
the end. 

The unavoidable delay in crossing the Appomattox had given 
General Grant time to mass a heavy force — as General Meade's 
report shows — at Burkesville Junction ; and if it was General 
Lee's intention to advance on the east side of the Danville road, 
he gave it up. I believe, however, that such was never his 
design. His trains were directed to move through Cumber- 
land, Prince Edward, and Campbell, toward Pittsylvania ; and 
the army would naturally keep near enough to protect them. 



LEES LAST BATTLES. 595 

moving southward between the Junction and Farmville. While 
the troops were resting at Amelia Court- House, aud waiting 
for the rear to come up, the Federal commander must have 
pushed forward with great rapidity. His cavalry was already 
scouring the countrj^ far in advance of the Confederate column, 
and the numbers and excellence of this branch of their service 
gave them a fatal advantage. The reserve train, containing 
nearly all the ammunition of the Southern army, was attacked 
and burned near Paynesville, and the fate awaiting other por- 
tions of the army train was foreseen. Its unwieldy size and 
slow movement made it an easy prey ; and it was incessantly 
attacked, and large sections carried off or destroyed. So nu- 
merous were these captures, that nearly the whole subsistence 
of the army was lost ; and from this time commenced the really 
distressing scenes of the march. The men were without rations, 
and had marched almost day and night since leaving Peters- 
burg ; their strength was slowly drained from them ; and de- 
spondency, like a black and poisonous mist, began to invade 
the hearts before so tough and buoyant. 

The tendency of military life is to make man an animal, and 
to subject his mind in a great measure to his body. Feed a 
soldier well, and let him sleep sufficiently, and he will fight 
gaily. Starve him, and break him down with want of sleep 
and fatigue, and he will despond. He will fight still, but not 
gaily; and unless thorough discipline is preserved, he will 
"straggle" off to houses by the road for food and sleep. De- 
sertion is not in his mind, but the result is the same. The man 
who lags or sleeps while his column is retreating, close pressed 
by the enemy, never rejoins it. Such is the explanation of the 
phenomena exhibited on this retreat ; and now why were the 
troops thus left without rations, and compelled to scatter over 
the country in search of enough food to preserve them from 
starvation ? 

The reply to that question is, tliat rations for his army were 
ordered to be sent to Amelia Court-House by General Lee ; 
that trains containing the supplies were dispatched from Dan- 
ville ; and that these trains were ordered, hy telegraph from 



596 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

Riclim.ond^ to come on to Eiclnnond, and did so, when the 
bread and meat was thrown in the gutter, to make way for the 
rubbish of the Departments. The rubbish was preserved for 
subsequent capture, and the Army of Northern Virginia stag- 
gered on, and starved, and surrendered. 

If any one demands the proof of this assertion, I will give it. 



lY. 

General Lee left Amelia Court-House on the evening of the 
5th, and from this time the army was incessantly engaged, par- 
ticularly with the Federal cavalry. On the 6th the enemy was 
encountered in force ; and line of battle was formed to repulse 
them, if they advanced upon the trains then moving towards 
High Bridge. It was on this evening that Generals Ewell and 
Anderson were suddenly attacked and their commands thrown 
into great confusion, in the rear of the wagon-trains. These 
officers and others — including General Custis Lee, sou of the 
General — were captured, and the drama seemed about to end 
here ; but it did not. 

To the hostile fate which seemed to be pressing him to his 
destruction, General Lee opposed a will as unconquerable as the 
Greek Necessity with her iron wedge. The terrible results of 
this disorganization of Ewell and Anderson were averted by a 
movement of infantry as rapid and unexpected as that of the 
Federal cavalry. From the flanking column of Confederate 
infantry a brigade was pushed across at a double-quick ; and 
between the disorganized troops of Ewell and the victorious 
enemy rose a wall of bayonets, flanked by cannon. From this 
human rock the wave went back ; and though the lurid glare 
of the signals along the Federal lines in the gathering dark- 
ness seemed the prelude to another attack, none was made. 

I have spoken briefly of this scene. It was one of gloomy 
picturesqueness and tragic interest. On a plateau, raised above 
the forest from which they had emerged, were the disorganized 
troops of Ewell and Anderson, gathered in groups, unofficered, 



lee's last battles. 597 

and uttering tumultuous exclamations of rage or defiance. 
Rising above the weary groups ■which had thrown themselves 
upon the ground, were the grim barrels of cannon, in battery, 
to fire as soon as the enemy appeared. In front of all was the 
still line of battle just placed by Lee, and waiting calmly. 
General Lee had rushed his infantry over just at sunset, lead- 
ing it in person, his face animated, and his eye brilliant with 
the soldier's spirit of "fight," but his bearing unflurried as 
before. An artist desiring to paint his picture ought to have 
seen the old cavalier at this moment, sweeping on upon his 
large iron gray, whose mane and tail floated in the wind ; car- 
rying his field-glass half raised in his right hand ; with head 
erect, gestures animated, and in the whole face and form the 
expression of the hunter close upon his game. The line once 
interposed, he rode in the twilight among the disordered 
groups above mentioned, and the sight of him raised a 
tumult. Fierce cries resounded on all sides ; and with hands 
clenched violently and raised aloft, the men called on him to 
lead them against the enemy. " It's General Lee ! " " Uncle 
Robert ! " " Where's the man who won't follow Uncle Rob- 
ert? " I heard on all sides ; the swarthy faces, full of dirt and 
courage, lit up every instant by the glare of the burning wag- 
ons. Altogether, the scene was indescribable. 

This took place on the evening of the 6th of April. The 
main body of the Federal army was now closing round Lee, 
and it was only by obstinate and persistent fighting that he 
was able to continue his retreat. Everywhere the Federal 
forces were confronted by his excellently served artillery ; and 
the thin lines of infantry, marching on the flanks of the trains, 
met and repulsed every attack with the old spirit of the Army 
of Northern Yirginia. In hunger, and thirst, and weariness, 
and retreat, these veteran troops stood by their colours without 
a murmur, and fought as admirably as when carrying all before 
them, and flushed with victory. Others, however, were less 
constant ; rather, let ns say, less phj'sically competent. They 
fell out of the ranks by hundreds, overcome by hunger and 
exhaustion ; or, what was equally bad, thev dropped their heavy 
37 



698 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

guns and cartridge-boxes, and straggled along, a useless, cum- 
brous mob. On the morning of the 7th, beyond Farniville, the 
Federal cavalry made continuous and desperate onslaughts on 
the train, tlirowing everything into confusion. The teamsters, 
always the least soldierly portion of an army, became panic- 
stricken, and the terrible roads increased a thousand-fold the 
difficulties of the march. Wagons were captured or aban- 
doned all along, in spite of hard lighting, and from this time 
the retreat became a scene of disorder which no longer left any 
ground for hope. I intended to describe it, but the subject is 
too disagreeable. Let some other eye-witness place upon record 
these last scenes of a great tragedy. 

On the 7th, General Grant opened his correspondences with 
General Lee, stating that the result of the march, so tar,imust 
have convinced him of "'the hopelessness of further resistance-;" 
and this correspondence continued until the morning of the 
9th, General Lee refusing to surrender the army. But his con- 
dition was hopeless. The Confederate forces were reduced to 
7,800 muskets, and Grant liad in General Lee's front 80,000 
men, witli a reserve of 40,000 or 50,000, which would arrive 
in twenty -four liours. These odds were too great ; and although 
General Gordon drove them a mile with his thin line half an 
hour before the surrender, the Federal forces continued to close 
in and extend their cordon of infantry, cavalry, and artiller}'', 
until the Southern army was almost completely surrounded. 
Lee's line slowly fell back before this overwhelming force, and 
the moment seemed to have come when the "Old Guard" of 
the Army of Northern Yirginia would be called upon to crown 
its historic fame by a last charge and a glorious death. These 
men would have died with Lee without a murmur, fighting to 
the last ; but any such wanton sacrifice of human life, without 
any imaginable use, was far from the thoughts of the great 
soldier. He had fought as long as he could, and done all in his 
power to extricate his army from a position in which it had been 
placed by no fault of his. Now he did not hesitate in his 
course. At first he had recoiled from the idea of surrender 
when it was suggested to him by, I think, General Pendleton. 



lee's last battles. 599 

Tliis officer had informed him that his corps commanders were 
unanimously of opinion that surrender was inevitable ; but he 
had exclaimed, greatly shocked, " Surrender ! I have too many 
good fighting men for that ! " JSTow the current had set too 
strongly against him, and he was forced to yield. The army, 
with less than eight thousand muskets, a very short supply of 
ammunition, and almost nothing to eat, was at Appomattox 
Conrt-House, in the bend of the James — wholly impassable 
without pontoons — and on every side the great force of General 
Grant was contracting and closing in. A Federal force had 
seized considerable supplies of rations, sent down by railroad 
from Lynchburg ; and this force now took its position in front 
of the Confederate army, slowly moving by the left flank toward 
James river. General Custer, who seemed to be greatly elated 
on this occasion, and to enjoy the result keenly, stated to Con- 
federate officers that Grant's force amounted to eighty thousand 
men, and that a heavy reserve was coming up. 

Under these circumstances General Lee determined to sur- 
render his army, and did so, on condition that the officers and 
men should be paroled, to go to their homes and remain undis- 
turbed by " United States authorities " as long as they remained 
quiet and peaceable citizens. Officers and men were to retain 
their private property, and the former their side-arms. 

Such was the Convention between Lee and Grant. 



Y. 

The Army of Northern Virginia had surrendered ! Strange, 
incredible announcement ! 

The effect which it produced upon the troops is hard to 
describe. They seemed to be stupefied and wholly unable to 
realize the idea. For Lee, the invincible, to yield up his sword 
was an incredible thing ; and when the troops could no longer 
have any doubt, men who had fought in twenty battles, and faced 
death with unshrinking nerve, cried like children. To yield is 
a terrible thing — a bitter humiliation ; and if the private sol- 



600 WEARING OF THE GRAY. 

diers felt it so keenly, we may imagine the feelings of the 
leader who was thus called upon to write that word " Sur- 
render " at the end of so great a career. He had said once 
that he " intended for himself to die sword in hand ; " but now 
not even this was permitted him. He must sacrifice his men 
or surrender, and he decided without difficulty or hesitation. 

If there are any poor creatures so mean as to chuckle at this 
spectacle of a great man letting fall the sword which has never 
been stained by bad faith or dishonour, they can indulge their 
merriment. The men who liad fought the illustrious leader 
upon many battle-fields — wlio had given and\ taken hard blows 
in the struggle — did not langh that day. i 

The scenes which took place between General Lee and his 
men were indescribably pathetic. I shall not speak of them, 
except to say that the great heart of tlie soldier seemed moved 
to its depths. He who had so long looked unmoved upon 
good fortune and bad, and kept, in the midst of disaster and 
impending ruin, the equanimity of a great and powerful soul, 
now shed tears like a child. 

"I have done what I thought was best for you," he said to 
the men. " My heart is too full to speak ; but I wish you all 
health and happiness." 

It may be asked why I have omitted from my sketch the 
scene of surrender. There was no such scene, except after- 
wards when the troops stacked arms and marched off. The 
real surrender was an event which was felt, not seen. It was 
nothing apparently ; the mere appearance of a Federal column 
waving a white flag, and halting on a distant hill. But the 
tragic event was read in the faces of all. No guns in position 
with that column so near ; no line of battle ; no preparations 
for action ! A dreamy, memorial sadness seemed to descend 
through the April air and change the scene. Silence so deep 
that the rustle of the leaves could be heard — and Longstreet's 
veterans, who had steadily advanced to attack, moved back 
like mourners. There was nothing visible in front but that 
distant column, stationary behind its white flag. !N'o band 
played, no cheer was heard; the 'feelings of the Southern 



LEES LAST BATTLES. 601 

troops were spared ; but there were many who wanted to die 
then. 

This retreat was a terrible episode of military life, unlike any 
which the present writer ever before saw ; but he does not 
regret liaviug borne his part in its hardships, its sufferings, and- 
its humiliations. He is glad to have seen the struggle out 
under Lee, and to have shared his fate. The greatness and 
nobility of soul which characterize this soldier were all shown 
conspicuously in that short week succeeding the evacuation of 
Petersburg. He had done his best, and accepted his fate with 
manly courage, and that erect brow which dares destiny to do 
her worst ; or r&tlier, let us say, he had bowed submissively to 
the decree of that God in whom he had ever placed his reliance. 
Lee, the victor upon many hard-fought fields, was a great 
figure ; but he is no less grand in defeat, poverty, and adversity. 
Misfortune crowns a man in the eyes of his contemporaries and 
in history ; and the South is prouder of Lee to-day, and loves 
him more, than in his most splendid hours of victory. 

John Esten Cooke. 

ViBGiNiA, June, 1865. 








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